


SGA Spare Parts Bin

by Azolean



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Goodbyes, Heroism, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 08:58:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11376900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azolean/pseuds/Azolean
Summary: Let's face it, we all have one. I'm just bold enough to call it what it is. This is going to be a random collection of ficlets, AU scenes, missing chapters, songfics, and other junk. Feel free to peruse at your leisure. Character list will be adjusted as items are added.





	1. Welcome to Atlantis Part I

Major Evan Lorne was still in awe of his surroundings. He'd been in Atlantis almost a week now and hadn't even had a chance to actually speak with his commanding officer. Supposedly this newly promoted Lieutenant Colonel was the hero of the city in more ways than one. It didn't take long for a newcomer to hear of the glories of Colonel John Sheppard. Major Lorne didn't have anything personal against the hero-types, but he was starting to wonder if the man had forgotten him. Or, perhaps, this was his punishment. Instead of shipping him off to some frozen, hellish wasteland, they sent him all the way to another galaxy to get rid of him. And, of course, the Colonel was just oh so thrilled about this that he was avoiding the man that had been appointed as his second in command. It had probably been forced on him and out of his hands. Damned IOA.

Yep, that would be about right, Lorne thought to himself. Fourteen years in the Air Force and I get to just disappear.

From his position on this otherwise unoccupied balcony he had an amazing view of one of the most spectacular sunsets he'd ever witnessed on any world. Half the Ancient city sprawled below with an unblemished view of the ocean horizon and sunset beyond. For a moment, Evan thought about seeing what he could do to get some art supplies around here.

Well, if this is where they're going to make me disappear, there are worse places, he admitted to himself, thinking about what he'd heard of McMurdo.

For a while he gave up his thoughts and just enjoyed the view. But enough was enough. If his commanding officer didn't have time to seek him out, then he was just going to have to corner the man. At the very least, Lorne wanted to know what he was in for. He'd served under quite a few people in his career. So far, catching the man in his office proved damn-near impossible. Lorne grudgingly gave him that much credit. He never did like working for the by-the-book pencil pushers and desk jockeys.

Giving up his view, Major Lorne decided to prowl the city for a while in search of his CO.

~o~o~o~

An hour later he found his target. The man was sitting with the two remaining members of his team. He seemed to be lost in thought while Teyla Emmagen and Doctor Rodney McKay were discussing something animatedly. Whatever it was that was going on in the Colonel's head, he didn't seem to be paying much attention to the conversation. But, when McKay's body language and speech turned to frustrated jerkiness and hand gestures, the Colonel seemed to refocus his attention for a minute. Lorne was too far away to hear whatever had been said; but, whatever it was, had a rather profound impact on the astrophysicist. The man actually shut up. This was enough to make the Major smile. Anyone who had been in Atlantis five minutes knew about the great Doctor Rodney McKay and the mouth that wouldn't quit. No, he wasn't about to interrupt the Colonel when he was having dinner with his teammates. But just seeing how he handled the scientist was worth a look.

Grabbing a cup of coffee, Lorne made himself scarce again for a while.

~o~o~o~

Finally! Lorne thought, thinking he was going to die of a heart attack at the shock of seeing the great hero Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard in his office. Not bothering to knock, he opened the glass door. Standing smartly before the desk, he saluted.

The Colonel's expression was not what the Major had expected. Irritation at the interruption, annoyance at being cornered, anything but the clear amusement dancing in those green eyes. And that knowing smirk. Lorne struggled not to frown in confusion. Then the Colonel's face got serious.

"Drop the bow, Major. I haven't earned that yet."

For a moment Lorne blinked in surprise not sure what to make of this. Dropping his hand to his side at attention, he watched as Sheppard sat back in his chair contemplating his new executive officer.

"I really hope you're not one of those," Sheppard commented waving to a chair. "Sit down, Major. Relax."

"Not one of what? If I may ask, sir," Lorne queried, struggling to remain neutral despite the implication in Sheppard's comment.

"For one thing I'm not going to go around Atlantis telling you to relax all the time. You're just going to have to get used to things around here. Secondly, around here, the salute is reserved for, shall we say 'special occasions'. We haven't worked together, yet. Other than my rank, I've not earned that salute. If you feel it necessary at a later time, I'll accept it."

Lorne struggled to keep his expression neutral and not grin. So, he's one of those, he thought. Could be worse. "Understood, sir."

Again Sheppard sat contemplating Lorne as if amused to no small degree. "So, how are you settling in? Enjoy the grand tour?"

"It's a lot more comfortable than my last post, sir. And yes, sir."

Again Sheppard made a face, still not too fond of the formality; but given what he'd seen so far, he wasn't going to push the Major to a total breakdown of authority, yet.

"So, were you wanting something, or did you just come to introduce yourself?"

"I'd like to speak with you, sir."

"Not happy with the hours? Or was it the coffee? The coffee not being its usual standard of military sludge does tend to throw people off when they first get here. But with all the scientists, the city runs on coffee. So it has to be good, or we all suffer. Trust me, Major, cold showers, no electricity, and other city issues are not worth having a stronger cup of coffee in the morning."

Lorne couldn't help but quirk a smile at that one. "I can imagine, sir. But no complaints. Just a couple of questions, sir."

Not sure he really liked where this was going, Sheppard tried to force himself to be serious for a moment. Seeing the grin on the Major's face and how he'd loosened up was worth it, though. But did the man really have to look so….young?

It's the dimples. It's gotta be the damn dimples, Sheppard thought to himself, nodding for the Major to continue.

"Why am I here, sir?"

"Because you've been assigned to the Atlantis Expedition."

Lorne was not amused. "I see. May I ask who gave the order, sir?"

"I did."

Lorne's eyebrows shot up.

Sheppard considered this for a moment with a lopsided grin. "Why so surprised?"

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Always, Major."

"Because I was fairly certain my career had tanked, and they were going to either put me on a planet as far from human civilization as possible, or stick me in McMurdo's frozen hell to keep an eye on me."

"McMurdo's not that bad. But what would make you think your career was in the toilet?"

Lorne gave Sheppard wary look that visibly asked why the Colonel was playing this game, and decided to call him on it. "You know why, sir."

"I read the reports. But I want to hear it from you, Major. What really happened on P three S seven seven five?"

For a moment Lorne looked like he was going to refuse. Then he nodded to himself as if coming to a decision. Those blue eyes were hard with his next words; almost as if he was challenging the Colonel. "I disobeyed a direct order from General Hammond, sir."

"And what order was that?"

"To return to Earth with the remaining members of my team, sir."

"Now why would you go and do something like that?" the Colonel shot back, not bothering to hide his amusement.

"I sent the rest of my team through the gate, sir. Then I went back to locate and rescue Lieutenant Surnilla," Lorne replied, clearly not liking this line of questioning.

"Successfully, if the reports are correct."

"Yes, sir."

"And did you know she was the daughter of one of the IOA members?"

"No, sir. And that is irrelevant, sir."

"Then what is relevant, Major?" Sheppard asked, his expression utterly neutral now.

"She was a member of my team. I had no idea where she was, or in what condition. I wasn't going to leave her behind, sir."

"Let me get this straight," Sheppard said, his expression visibly and deliberately hardening as the commanding officer came out. "You sent your remaining team through gate, as ordered. Then you went back through a battle zone to find your missing team member; who, by the way, was unconscious with a broken leg and bleeding from a head wound. You carried her back to the gate. And then what? You expected a medal?"

"No, sir," Lorne growled, his eyes screaming how furious he was, even if his expression did not. "She was a member of my team. I won't leave anyone behind until I have proof there's nothing to save, sir."

"So, what? You were hot on her or something?" Sheppard pushed.

"No." It was a sign of how angry the Major was in the fact that he left off the honorific.

Sheppard struggled not to grin as he continued to push. "Then explain to me, Major, why you thought it was a good idea to disobey a direct order, risk your life, and the lives of everyone at the SGC to go back for her."

"You've obviously read my record, sir," Lorne replied, struggling to get himself back under control. "I lost Lieutenant Ritter a couple years before. It may not have been my command, but he should never have been out there alone. Lieutenant Surnilla…" He paused to take a breath and continue more calmly. "I wouldn't have endangered the SGC, Colonel. If we had no safe way back, at least she wouldn't have died alone in that cave."

"And that's it? Throw away your life and career for the life of another under your command so you can make up for the loss of another?"

"No, sir. I don't need to tell you that nothing I do will bring back the dead. But I won't make the same mistake twice."

"If you were in the same situation all over again tomorrow, would you do it again?"

"Yes, sir."

Sheppard smiled as he sat back in his chair. "And that's why you're here."

For a moment, Lorne seemed utterly confused. Sheppard let that sink in as understanding donned on the man's face softening his expression.

"We don't leave our people, behind, Major. I could not think of a more qualified person to be my Second in Command."

The Major's expression hardened again. "And if I do it again? To you this time, sir?"

"Depends on the situation. But out here in the Pegasus Galaxy, we operate a little differently. We'll deal with disciplinary actions if it ever comes to that. For now, welcome to Atlantis."

Now Lorne did smile, "Thank you, sir."

"Oh, and in case you didn't notice, I hate paperwork. That's all yours. I recommend getting it done early, because Doctor Weir is usually up and about by seven o'clock. And you've got the duty rosters."

"I'm usually up by five, sir. I like the morning shift."

"Thank God," Sheppard said sincerely. "I hate mornings."

"Anything else I should know about, sir?"

Sheppard seemed to think for a moment. "You've got the ATA gene, right?"

"So they say, sir."

Sheppard smiled wickedly. "I'll just let the rest be a surprise, then, Major."

That part Lorne didn't like the sound of. But, in light of what he'd learned of his CO so far, he thought he could definitely learn to like the guy. Maybe his stay in Atlantis wouldn't be so bad after all.


	2. A Tale of Two Soggy Feet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so it appears Major Lorne has decided to taken up residence in the asylum in my head. So far he's given me about half a dozen short ones, and three more long ones. Strangely, I never paid attention to his character, really, when I watched the series the first three times. Why he's jumping out at me I have no clue. But, I have to admit, he is one of the more under-written characters.
> 
> So, yes, there will likely be more of these little rewrites of episode stuff, along with more original stuff here in the spare parts bin. Hopefully some of the other characters will quit sulking and step up for their little pieces...
> 
> In the meantime, thank you for the reviews. As long as these are as entertaining to others as they were for me to write, then I shall continue.
> 
> Enjoy!

The two groups entered the abandoned factory building in silence. Major Lorne and his team followed Colonel Sheppard's team. Lorne was somewhat surprised when Sheppard signaled for Doctor McKay to go with his team, while he and Ronon took off in a different direction. Apparently he had other targets and wanted the astrophysicist protected while he worked. The Major wasn't about to argue. Much as he wanted Teyla back, he also knew what kind of trouble McKay tended to get himself into. Besides, annoying as he was, Lorne had grown to like him.

"Rodney, you got anything?" Lorne heard Sheppard ask over the radio.

"Hold on," Rodney called back as they entered another room.

Seeing the astrophysicist was already too preoccupied with the mass of Wrath tech he spotted across the room to bother checking before entering, Lorne quickly ducked in with a scowl and checked the place. Not for the first time he wondered how the man had survived as long as he had. It must have been the Cursed Colonel's strange luck or something.

"Yeah. Yeah, I've got some kind of data terminal. Let me see if I can power it up and hack in," McKay replied a moment later.

Lorne signaled his team in the room outside where he was guarding McKay. McKay was going from thing to thing leaving Major Lorne to wonder how he could even tell the difference in all that biological and technological mush.

~o~o~o~

Meanwhile Sheppard and Ronon kept sweeping through room after room. Finally he spotted something that looked like what the digital McKay had described.

"This is it," Sheppard told Ronon. "This is where they found her."

"How do you know?"

"Because he described it to me," Sheppard replied in a distracted voice as he focused on those memories for a moment.

As they entered the empty room on high alert, Sheppard was almost disappointed. Maybe he had been wrong. Then Ronon caught sight of something.

"Hey, look at this," he said, holding up what looked like a twisted version of a surgical hand saw.

Sheppard keyed on his radio.

~o~o~o~

Back in the room with the mass of tubes and wires that would have, in another life time, left Lorne puking in disgust, they all heard Sheppard's radio.

"McKay, we got something."

"What is it?" the scientist asked, taking his attention off the connections in his hands for a moment.

"Some twisted version of a maternity ward. I think we're too early, though. But he's going to bring her here to have the baby."

"Hold on," McKay called. "I'm in. Whoa! Jackpot!"

Lorne came over to stand behind McKay to see what had popped up on a screen that was reminiscent of World War Two human tech from Earth.

"What have you got?" Sheppard asked.

"I got everything!" Rodney replied excitedly. "I've got gate addresses. I've got subspace communication codes. I've even got his research into the hybrids!" Turning around to look at Lorne he smiled, "He's history!"

Lorne couldn't help but smile back. This was probably the best news he'd heard in months. Suddenly the screen went dark and came back with a single Wraith language figure that the Major couldn't hope to understand.

"No, no, no, no, no," McKay said in surprised denial. "What happened?"

Major Lorne felt a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. "What's that?" he asked, already suspecting the answer.

"Oh no…" McKay said, his face pale.

"Doc?" Lorne asked in a warning tone.

"It's a countdown."

"Damn!" Lorne said turning on his mic. "Colonel, it's a booby-trap! We've got to get out of here now!"

Already loud explosions were going off throughout the abandoned building. Turning toward the door and waving to his guys on the other side to run, Lorne was just lucky enough to avoid getting hit by a massive set of iron latticework that fell blocking the door. McKay ran right into him. Remembering the windows at the other end of the room, Lorne shoved McKay in that direction. The scientist, being totally unprepared for this, stumbled and landed on his chest with an oomph. Out of time and out of options, Lorne threw himself over the doctor locking his elbows in place.

"Cover your head!" Lorne shouted as McKay curled into a panicked ball beneath him.

The last massive explosion seemed to rip the building apart around them. Lorne had just enough time to pray his team managed to get out as the entire building came crashing down around them. The feeling of something heavy crushing his leg shocked him into a scream. A moment later that scream ended abruptly as something equally heavy landed on his back knocking the wind out of him. And, finally, his head exploded in an array of spectacular colors.

Then there was nothing.

~o~o~o~

McKay's blood had run cold hearing the Major screaming only inches above him. Then the silence roared in like a beast all its own. With the Major lying limply on top of him, McKay found he was afraid to open his eyes. The man was annoying in the way all jock-types were always annoying, but he'd grown to like the Major. He wasn't sure he could handle looking up and seeing the man's dead, staring eyes.

As the dust continued to settle and the position became increasingly uncomfortable, McKay managed to get his shaking under control. Above him he could feel Lorne breathing. Mentally checking himself, he gave a huge sigh of relief. Lorne was alive, and he was undamaged. This was a good start.

But what about Sheppard and Ronon? a voice in his head asked.

Shut up. One thing at a time, right now, he told it.

Carefully he moved himself out from under Major Lorne trying to unclip the P90 and lay the man as flat as possible. With a scream like that, McKay knew the man was badly injured. And if his experiences with Sheppard were anything to go by, Lorne wasn't going to be able to tolerate much jostling. Just as he was settling Lorne's head on the concrete floor the man gave a groan and a start.

"MmmmKay…" he slurred.

"Hold still, Major," McKay said. "You're hurt. I just don't know where."

Having gained the auditory confirmation he needed that McKay had survived, Lorne relaxed somewhat, still dazed. "You okay, Doc?" he asked, trying to focus beyond the rising nausea and throbbing in his head.

Now visually checking Lorne over while removing his own vest and jacket, McKay said, "Yes, remarkably I'm uninjured. Thanks to you."

Lorne grunted trying to get his bearings as McKay wadded up his jacket and stuffed it under his head. Then he remembered something that made him jolt. "Legs."

"What?"

"My legs, something fell on my left leg," Lorne said slurred, trying to think through the throbbing pain in his head. "I can't feel—"

"No, no, no, no, no! Don't move, Major," McKay said as Lorne tried to get his hands under himself to push up. "Just let me…Oh, no."

"McKay?" Lorne asked in a warning tone.

"Just don't move, Major!" McKay snapped, getting over the shock.

"What?"

"Your leg is pinned. Looks like some kind of…iron beam. It's balanced on…maybe I can pivot…" McKay grunted, trying to shift it. "Try now!"

Lorne tried to move out from under whatever it was McKay was holding. His heart stopped. His legs didn't move. As a matter of fact, he couldn't feel anything below his shoulder blades.

"Move, Major! I can't—"

"I can't!" Lorne snapped back, his stomach lurching causing the statement to end in a thankfully dry heave.

"Major…Damn," McKay finally said, realizing Lorne was retching.

There was a moment of shuffling feet and grinding metal before a secondary crash brought down what felt like half a ton of light debris. Lorne covered his head as best he could from the awkward position. As silence began to fall, he started to panic.

"McKay!" trying not to gag again, ever so thankful that he hadn't eaten today. A hoarse coughing right beside him on the side he wasn't facing started his heart beating again. "Don't do that again," he growled in relief.

"You're welcome," McKay snapped back. "Your leg isn't pinned anymore. Why didn't you move? I could have given myself a hernia trying to lift—"

"You know, for a scientist you can be an idiot sometimes," Lorne cut him off tiredly. "I can't move, Rodney. I can't feel anything from about halfway down my back and lower."

"Oh no…"

Lorne could imagine the look on the man's face. He wasn't sure if the pity pissed him off more, or the horror. "Get over it, Doc! Try your radio, we need to see if there are any other survivors."

As if just then realizing he still had his radio, McKay grabbed his vest and put it back on. "McKay to Sheppard. Come in."

Trying to focus on breathing and not panicking himself, Lorne listened to static on his radio.

"Ronon? Do you copy?"

Static.

"Anyone? Is anyone out there?" McKay asked almost pathetically as the reality of what that silence meant settled in.

Hearing the continuous static, Lorne could only hope that the other three members of his team somehow managed to get out; but he doubted it. The shock seeming to have worn off and the reality of their situation setting in, McKay practically fell to a sitting position just barely within Lorne's viewing range. For once the astrophysicist was quiet, and that disturbed Lorne more than the man's ceaseless chatter.

"I posted Edmonds at the building entrance. He'll go get help," Lorne told him, trying to offer the clearly disheartened scientist some hope.

"That's if he wasn't killed by falling debris," McKay replied half-heartedly trying for his usual snappishness and failing miserably.

Trying again Lorne told him, "The Daedalus left Atlantis when we were still confirming Colonel Sheppard's story. With that kind of head start, they should be here in less than three hours." He grunted as he tried unsuccessfully to reach up and wipe the blood out of his eyes. "So one way or another, help is on the way."

"Sorry," McKay said, pulling out a cloth from one of the many pockets in his vest. "I'm just not good with tight spaces."

Lorne accepted the cloth and wiped his face to find there was a lot more blood than he thought. Whatever hit him had clipped the side of his head leaving a gash that felt about two inches long, and bleeding profusely. "Yeah, well, look, there's no bad guys around, okay?" he said, trying to keep McKay from going into a full-blown panic attack. "No bad guys…just a lot of…debris…so…"

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no! Don't sleep, Major!" McKay commanded scooting closer.

Lorne shook himself mentally and lifted his head up. Big mistake, he told himself as his stomach lurched again. Somewhere beyond the hum in his head he could hear McKay talking.

"…concussion. And if I've learned anything in the last few years, it's that concussions—"

"Shut up," Lorne practically whispered.

McKay's mouth closed with a click, almost making the Major regret his words. "Sorry, just trying to focus. I need to think."

"Don't hurt yourself," McKay shot back before his face went pale. "I'm sorry! No. I didn't mean it. Really! I just…Are you laughing?"

For a moment Lorne wasn't sure if he was laughing or sobbing. Either way, the giddy feeling of coming to the realization of this terrifying and ridiculous situation finally hit him. You always worry about who you might get stuck with where any time you go off-world. So you always carefully pick your team. Of all the people for him to be stuck with, it had to be the great Doctor Rodney McKay. For one moment there he had almost regretted saving the man's life. Meanwhile, somewhere nearby the rest of his team was most likely dead.

No, he wasn't sure anymore if he was laughing or crying.

But he was sure it wasn't helping. Forcing his breathing to normal, he tried to refocus beyond the pounding in his head. "Just sit tight, Doctor. Help will be here."

"I know…" McKay said, forlornly.

"They're okay, Rodney," Lorne said forcefully as if trying to convince himself. He closed his eyes against the pain for a moment trying to focus beyond the terrifying lack of sensation in his lower body.

McKay, having scooted closer to the Major's back began to tentatively look for any wounds instead of answering. "Well, there's no blood."

"Blunt trauma, then," Lorne agreed wishing the room would stop tilting back and forth at crazy angles. "Don't worry about it, McKay. Doctor Keller will figure it out."

"Yeah…"

"McKay," Lorne said in a warning voice. "Don't shut down on me, here. I need you to focus. Try the radio in five minute intervals. They survived. We just need to wait for them to wake up. Kinda like me."

"Yeah, sure," McKay said, sounding preoccupied.

Not for the first time, Lorne cursed his current position. Aside from being uncomfortable, it was also damn inconvenient. But the alternative, which was likely to damage his spine further before help arrived, wasn't an option, either. Heaving a sigh, Lorne resigned himself to the situation.

"Talk to me, Doc. You're the expert here on concussions. You said I need to stay awake," he said, already knowing full well the joys of a concussion first-hand.

"Talk about what?" he asked incredulously.

"I don't know," Lorne growled. "Anything."

"Oh right, like you're going to understand particle physics," McKay said, standing up to pace across the room. "Or was it quantum physics you wanted to discuss? Maybe a little collaborative dissertation on the multiverse—"

"Sure, Doc. Whatever…just…keep talking."

"Have you been hanging around Radek again?"

Lorne huffed a laugh. "Yeah, something like that."

"Wait, aren't you dating Doctor Bazzi?"

"What's it to you?"

"I knew it! You and Sheppard! Between the two of you…What is it with women wanting the guys with all the looks and no personality?"

"Gee, thanks, Doc."

"Oh, no, wait! I didn't mean it that way!"

"Relax, McKay. I know what you meant. And you have nothing to worry about," Lorne said, unable to hide his amusement at the scientist's discomfort.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, most of those scientists who have lead a rather sheltered life, mostly obsessed with their work, just want to see what it's like 'on the other side', so to speak," Lorne said, struggling to breathe in this awkward position.

"What?"

"You heard me," he grunted, trying to shift his upper body to make it easier to breathe. "They don't want long-term anything with military. It's just a fling," Lorne said sounding sad to McKay.

"Really?" McKay asked, sounding almost comically hopeful.

"Yes, really. Now if you're quite finished with this subject, let's move on to something more interesting."

"Sorry."

"For what?" Lorne asked, finally getting his left arm under his vest enough to take some of the pressure off his chest so he could breathe. "There, that's better."

"You and Doctor Bazzi."

"What?"

"Sorry it didn't, you know, work out."

His pounding head finally processing what McKay was saying, Lorne almost chuckled again. "Don't be. I should know better by now."

Hearing McKay moving around and items being shuffled behind him, Lorne forced his head back and then turned. "What are you doing?" he finally asked, seeing McKay going through what looked like disconnected hard drives.

"I'm claustrophobic," McKay reminded him. "I'm trying to keep my mind busy; which is hard, because, you know, it's…my mind."

Seeing McKay at least absorbed in something that wouldn't drive Lorne into wanting to shoot the man, he was somewhat relieved. But feeling more tired than he could ever remember, the Major also needed something to keep himself occupied. "Well, there's no way anything useful survived that implosion."

"Yeah, well, speak for yourself." The look of horror on McKay's face was priceless.

Lorne found himself laughing again. He was beginning to see why Sheppard liked the man so much. It seemed the snarky scientist kept a foot in his mouth pretty regularly when in certain company. "I know what you meant, Doc. Don't worry about it," he said before McKay could start his rambling apologies again.

Turning his attention back to the computer hardware he mumbled something Lorne didn't catch.

"What was that?"

"I said I'm eventually going to learn to keep my mouth shut," McKay snapped, not bothering to look up.

That will be a cold day in hell, Lorne thought, struggling not to either say it out loud or laugh at the thought since laughing made him want to gag again.

"I found a bunch of computer parts, alright? The motherboards are all fried or snapped, but some of these hard drives look like they might still be intact. If I can just get the power to…" With a snap, McKay managed to connect one to his tablet. Of course it wasn't damaged. Major Lorne figured that tablet would survive an apocalypse.

"Hello, hello," McKay said, happily surprised by something on the tablet screen. "Whoa…"

"What? Is it something good?" Lorne asked idly hoping for something that would keep both of them mentally occupied, at least.

"I don't know. It's a lot of information," McKay replied distantly. "Hold on. I think I just hit the jackpot."

"What? Some way to broadcast a signal?" Lorne asked hopefully. "Let people know our location? Speed up the rescue? What?"

McKay sighed heavily. "No. Although, in hindsight, you're right. That should be considered the jackpot. But, no, this is a hard drive I can only access what's on it."

"Which is?" Lorne prompted, not even caring anymore.

"It's Michael's wiki. It survived the explosion. It's a huge chunk of Michael's database; maybe the whole thing. We've got base schematics, medical research information, lists of planets. Do you know what this means?" McKay said, excitedly.

"Yeah. It means we're still stuck here and I still can't feel anything," Lorne said angry with himself for even bothering to get his hopes up. This was McKay, after all.

"In the short-term," McKay agreed. "But if we get out of here—"

"If?" Lorne asked putting a hard edge into his voice.

McKay clearly ignored this. "We'd have him on the run. He'd be finished. Look, if Michael—" Something on his tablet chirped at him. "Oh no…"

"I hate when you say that," Lorne said with a sigh as he closed his eyes. "What now?"

"I don't want to concern you any more than you actually already are, but if I'm reading this correctly, then Michael is…is…"

Hearing something, Lorne's eyes flew open. "Shut up. Shut up. Listen."

McKay's eyes widened in understanding as he heard it too. "Footsteps!"

"Okay, revise that. Start making noise!" Lorne said trying to breathe as deeply as he could. "Hey! Down here! We're down here!"

McKay jumped up. "Help! Help!

"McKay! Is that you?!" they heard Colonel Carter shouting from above.

"Oh thank God! Yes!" McKay shouted back, hearing Lorne dry heaving again after his efforts.

Smiling at knowing that McKay at least was going to get out of this, okay, Lorne closed his eyes. For a moment he let the relief wash over him.

"I'm trapped down here with Major Lorne!"

More like the other way around, Lorne thought, ever so grateful that his time with McKay was soon to end.

"Are you okay?" they heard Carter shout back.

"I'm fine! Lorne's hurt. He can't move, and he has a broken leg!"

"Okay, McKay, stay put! We've got combat engineers here! We're going to dig you out!"

"Well hurry up!" he shot back.

"We'll work as fast as is safe, Rodney!" she called back down, irritation clear in her voice.

"No, no, no. You don't understand! I found out that when the self-destruct is initiated, it's automatically programmed to send a subspace burst! Michael's probably already on his way!"

"Understood!"

"Colonel!" Lorne cut in, hoping he'd caught her. "Are there any other survivors?!"

The silence had even McKay closing his eyes like a kid desperately wishing.

"Two! Buried much deeper!"

Lorne closed his eyes as McKay's opened. They both knew what that meant. If they were much deeper, then it was likely to be Ronon and Sheppard. Lorne's team was gone.

"I'm…I'm sorry, Major," McKay said softly.

Lorne didn't doubt the man's sincerity, but he wasn't in the mood to deal right now. Let the damned astrophysicist think what he wanted. Turning his head away, back to the side that wasn't sliced open, Lorne set himself to waiting as patiently as he could. After all, where was he going to go?

Half an hour later McKay scrambled out with help from Carter. The man had been silent the entire time. Lorne could hear him as Doctor Keller pounced on him. Knowing McKay was safe, at least, he started to let himself drift.

"No, no, no, no. I'm okay. You need to look after Major Lorne."

"Doctor McKay turning down medical help? Now I know something's wrong," Keller teased.

"No," McKay said more forcefully. "He's hurt. He can't feel his legs, and one was crushed. And I think he has a concussion."

Keller's eyes widened as her lips thinned. Grabbing a couple of bags and issuing some instructions, she headed toward the opening. She dropped her bags in, first and followed them quickly after. Not a minute later two more doctors followed her in.

Lorne waited. He had even started to drift off. He was so tired. Not being able to feel the rest of him and too scared to move, did nothing to improve his alertness. Hearing footsteps, he assumed it was the doctor.

"Hey, Doc," he called softly. "Ready to bust me outta this place?"

"Yeah, sure, Major," she said, clearly distracted.

Lorne could hear the electronic hum of the Ancient scanner in her hands. Before she could say anything, though, there came a call from above.

"Wraith Cruiser! We've got to get out of here now!"

Turning to the other two, Keller said, "Go. Leave the board."

"No!" Lorne said. "If you can't get me out of here, just go."

Keller didn't even bother to respond. The other two continued unwrapping the restraints and collar as if she hadn't spoken.

"Did you hear me? I said—" Keller started.

"Yes," one of them snapped. "We heard you. And the faster we get him on this board, the faster we can get him out of here."

"All of you, just go," Lorne tried to shout, only to wind up gagging again. Again, he was ignored.

"Fine," Keller said, clearly pissed off.

Together the three of them had Lorne strapped to the board and hefting him up through the opening in what seemed like a minute. Then it was all bouncing motion and dizziness making him give up on consciousness altogether.

~o~o~o~

Lorne had no idea what time it was when he woke, again. But he wasn't in the hole anymore. It took his foggy mind a little while to catch up. He was in the infirmary in Atlantis. Arrayed around him were a couple of monitors and little else. His mouth dry, he looked around.

"Hold still, Major," a voice called from just outside his room. "I'm coming."

A moment later an auburn-haired doctor reached for the cup and brought it to him, urging him to keep as still as possible. Seeing he was awake enough to be alert and cognitive, she stepped back and eyed him.

"Welcome back, Major," she finally said. "Any pain?"

Lorne shook his head slightly. "No."

"Well, that's a plus, at least."

"How bad?" he finally asked, not really wanting to hear the answer but would rather find out if his career was over now rather than later.

"I've radioed Doctor Keller. She'll be able to get you the specifics."

Knowing he wasn't going to get anything more out of a doctor that didn't want to talk, Lorne just lay there staring at the ceiling trying to control his slowly rising panic. He knew this could happen. Everyone who went through the gate knew this could happen to anyone, any time. But, at the moment, dying would have been so much easier.

"Major Lorne?" Keller asked a couple minutes later. "Are you in pain?"

"How bad is it?"

"Sorry, just that your vitals…"

"How bad?" he asked again, more gruffly.

"You should be back on your feet in a couple of weeks to a couple of months," she said, clearly surprised.

Considering the condition of his team, Lorne couldn't find it in himself to smile, even. "Sheppard and Ronon?"

"Sheppard's still recovering from surgery and Ronon is…Ronon," she told him.

"Surgery?"

"Yeah, piercing wound. Some liver damage. He'll be fine in a few days."

"That's good," Lorne finally said. "So why can't I feel anything?"

"Impact damage to your spine. It was a shock that caused some swelling of the soft tissues. No broken vertebrae, and doesn't appear permanent. Over the next few days to couple of weeks you're going to start feeling muscle spasm and gradual return of feeling. Your leg was broken in two places, so I've inserted a wire mesh, kind of like an internal splint, to keep them together. Once the swelling goes down I'll get you casted. We'll remove the splints later."

Lorne let this sink in. It was better than he had any right to hope for.

"Six to eight weeks and you'll be back to sparring Ronon," she told him, with a comforting pat on the shoulder.

Summoning a smile from somewhere, Lorne said, "Thanks, Doc."

"I'll be back around in a while. If you need anything, Doctor Vishwa and Nurse Yoxall will be at the station in the center of the ward."

Lorne just nodded. Still too exhausted to think clearly, he let himself drift off to sleep again.


	3. Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These are snippets of events from Factus Humana that took place between Chapters 25 and 26: Epilogue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, I knew this was coming sooner or later. For those who didn't read Factus Humana, you're going to want to skip this one. This a songfic set after that story.
> 
> This is from a song that has haunted me for years, and sometime still does, today. It hits home pretty hard for anyone who's ever lost a friend or loved one. So, of course, it's great source material for me. It's called "Breathe" by Seven Channels, if you wanted to hear it before you read.
> 
> Enjoy!

It's been so long since you've gone away

And I know things will never be the same

I break it all down so it will show to me clear

But all the while I'm wishing you were here

.

As Colonel Sheppard finished writing his final report on a mission that claimed two lives, he sat back in his chair leaning as far away from his laptop monitor as he could get. Over and over he read those clean, neat lines of straightforward text. And he just wanted to put his fist through the screen. Line by line he laid out the events, and they didn't do the reality justice.

They don't do her justice, he confessed to himself.

Nothing he wrote could possibly capture Alex. She had been special. And, now that she was gone, he felt the hole in his life. Half of him cursed her for ever having come into his life. The other half hated himself for hating her for dying. But, above all, he just wished she was there. He'd been through this before. Probably too many time before in his Air Force career. Yet, he still wondered when it would be that he would finally stop looking around the mess hall for her, expecting to see her in a sparring room, seeing her ghost march off happily with Major Lorne through the gate. God he missed her.

~o~o~o~

Watching the sparring partners pairing up, Major Lorne wondered why he had never really sparred with Alex in these classes. He'd had no problem sparring with her any other time. This being the first time back in a martial arts class since her death, it just didn't feel the same anymore. Apparently others could see something in his demeanor or body language, because they glanced at him, and then chose other partners. Across the room Instructor Glover caught his eye and cocked a questioning eyebrow.

Evan shook his head and exited the class.

Meandering through the corridors in the general direction of his quarters, he again rationalized. He'd dealt with death before. His father, his teammates, his friends…but Alex had been different. Maybe it was because she'd actually been inside his head during their telepathic link. But nothing he said to himself or thought through really made the fact that she was dead any easier. All these months later and he still held on to the wish that she was there with him, right now.

~o~o~o~

Having officially left his grief behind, Doctor Beckett was consumed by his work. Months had come and gone and he'd hardly noticed. He'd gone back to the female retrovirus and the exabytes of data he'd acquired. Bit by bit he analyzed every moment of her change. Somewhere deep inside he secretly hoped that thinking of her as nothing more than a test subject would ease the pain.

It didn't.

Everything had more or less gone back to the way it was before she'd come into his life. And yet nothing was the same anymore. He couldn't even think her name anymore without it hurting.

Heaving a sigh, he dug the heels of his hands into his eyes as if to stave off the tears that he no longer had the strength to cry. He'd convinced himself in all the ways that matter to the outside world, that he was back to being himself again. But nothing he did, or thought, or felt could erase just how much he wished she would be waiting for him in their quarters.

In my dreams I can see and feel your face

But next to me sits an empty space

Sometimes this life doesn't make any sense to me

I need some time to heal and some space to breathe

.

Carson dreamt. He always dreamt of her. He couldn't remember a single dream he'd had before her, but these he always remembered. Times like this he woke up still feeling her warm skin in his hands from where he'd cupped her face; only to have her disappear as their lips met.

For a while he just lay there in the dark. He wanted to believe she was there. He wanted more than anything to roll over and feel her there beside him. But she never was. And this time was no different. Feeling his world turned inside out, Carson rolled back over and buried his face in his pillow.

Would this wound ever heal?

~o~o~o~

Sheppard had never been a morning person. He usually left that to his far more amicable XO. But today seemed to be an exception. Five thirty in the morning and John found himself running. He ran the halls, the walkways, the piers, the stairs, anywhere he could. He wasn't sure anymore what he was running from or to, but he just kept running.

After waking from a dream with Alex's wide, staring, dead eyes, he gave up on sleep. Nightmares usually weren't much of a problem with him. Even this one had been out of the ordinary. But the disorientation he'd felt when he woke making him feel like he was back on that hive ship had been too much. Throwing on some clothes and running shoes, he'd vacated his room.

For a few minutes it had even felt like she was running beside him again. And then he had to remember that Alex would never run with him again. As his blood started pumping oxygen to his brain to clear the cobwebs of sleep, he tried to sort through it all. Sometimes running was the only time he could make sense of this mess.

~o~o~o~

Evan woke with a start. Across the low-burning campfire, he could see her. She sat there smiling as if waiting for him to wake up.

"Morning, sunshine," Alex said with her usual impish grin.

"Alex?" he asked, struggling out of his bedroll.

"Who else would I be?" she asked pointing to her long, white hair. "With this hair you'd think you wouldn't be able to mistake me for anyone else."

"Alex…" squatting down beside her he reached out hesitantly. The moment his fingers touched her cheek, she disappeared.

Evan woke again; this time for real. The campfire he'd banked before rolling over had burned down to embers. Looking around, he confirmed he was alone. He was starting to feel like he was going insane. He had thought getting away from Atlantis for a couple of days camping on the mainland would help.

Obviously he'd been wrong.

I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in yeah yeah

.

Waking for the third, and final time that morning, Evan finally gave up on sleep. In the two days since his venture to the mainland, he'd been disappointed to learn nothing had changed. Too tired and depressed to even care about a cup of coffee or his usual morning run, he headed to the balcony where he and Alex had last talked. Leaning on the railing waiting for the sun to rise, he took a few deep breaths. Sometimes it helped to come here. Sometimes it was as if he could still feel her here.

For the first time in weeks, he smiled remembering how she'd tickled him by accident. And then intentionally.

Feeling minutely better, he turned his attention toward coffee and making himself presentable before Sheppard caught him and threw him back in Doctor Heightmeyer's office.

As I lay on the floor and I wonder why

The question lingers, Why did you die?

I thank God for you and the memories

But I still wish you were here with me

.

"Well, then. Do I need to guess, or is it the usual?" Rodney asked staring down at Sheppard laid out on the far end of the Northwest Pier.

"What do you want, Rodney?" Sheppard asked, still hugging his bottle of bourbon.

"Just wondering why the city sensors say there's someone out here getting shitfaced all alone."

"Ha!" John laughed. "Shitfaced…you said…shitfaced."

Yep, Sheppard was trashed. No, this wasn't the first time he'd seen his friend in this sorry condition. But usually there was an obvious reason. Typically the death of someone close to him. That was the usual Sheppard style grieving. Make sure no one knew where he was. Get trashed. Then get on with life.

This time, though, Rodney couldn't think of anything recent. He could only guess it was Alex again. Suddenly he wanted very much to hate that woman all over again. Instead, he heaved a sigh, and sat down beside Sheppard who was laid out staring up at the stars. For a while they just sat in the quiet. Rodney knew if John wanted to talk, he would. And if he didn't, no amount of participation on his part would change that.

"She loved the sky, y'know? Kinda stupid, really. What's up there? A bunch of nothing. Nothing," John slurred only slightly.

Rodney chuckled. "Then what's your excuse, flyboy?"

"That's easy. Speed. Height. But mostly speed."

"Why is that?" Rodney asked, not really interested, but willing to wait it out.

"Everything is too fast. Once you've flown at Mach Two in a Raptor, it seems to slow down. Life slows down. It's more…I don't know. Slow."

"Such profound wisdom you speak, your drunkenness."

"Why thank you, Rodney. Now why don't you take your asshole attitude and…and go back. Leave me alone."

"Because you may be one hell of a pilot, Sheppard, but you're a really lousy walker when you're toasted."

John just grunted and went back to his inspection of the stars for a while. After a while, Rodney started to suspect the man had fallen asleep. No such luck.

"You know, you had the right idea. Hate her. Hate Alex. It's so much easier when you hate someone."

"Oh please," McKay said, rolling his eyes. "You loved her. You said it yourself. She was the little sister you never wanted."

"Then thousand year old little sister," John slurred with a laugh.

"My point, exactly. You couldn't hate her any more than you could hate me right about now."

"Oh, I could."

"Right. And if flipping a mental switch from love to hate is so easy, then why are you out here?"

"Because I need…I need to remember," he said almost too softly to hear.

"Remember what?" Rodney asked incredulously. "You do realize that usually people drink themselves to oblivion to forget, right?"

John shook his head several times in denial. "No, I need to remember what it was like when she was happy."

"What?" Rodney asked, incredulous.

Heaving himself upright with a groan, John pushed the bottle toward his friend and away from himself. Sitting with his legs crossed and hunched over as if afraid he'd fall backward, he shook his head again squeezing his eyes shut tightly. "Sometimes all I can remember is her screaming." Suddenly he didn't sound nearly so drunk to McKay. "She screamed when they used the cattle prod on her in the prison. She screamed when she was undergoing the conversion. She screamed when she went up against Holmes. She screamed when she was put in the tank after being burned. She screamed when she was turning back into a Wraith." Sheppard dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. "God, sometimes I just want to remember her happy."

Rodney felt sick. For a moment, he wasn't sure what to say. Shaking his head, he took off his radio and opened the bottle. This was going to be a long night. But he knew his friend needed it.

"So tell me. What was she like when she was happy?"

"What do you care? You hated her."

"I never said I was a saint. And, yes, I did. For all the wrong reasons. But that's my issue, not yours. So, what was she like, John?"

Sheppard was quiet for so long, McKay was starting to feel like maybe he'd pushed too far too fast.

"She had the craziest questions sometimes. One time when Evan was…"

~o~o~o~

Feeling the aches in his neck and back, Carson groaned.

Damn that hurts. When will I ever learn? he wondered.

He'd fallen asleep on The Balcony. Sometimes he thought of it as Her Balcony. It had been her favorite after she'd moved in with him. He hadn't come here it as often as he had in the past. But whenever he wanted to avoid his own bed, he would come out here. Sometimes he even fell asleep. And he always regretted it the next day.

Staring up at the pre-dawn sky, he knew he was going to be feeling this for a couple of days.

But it had been one of those nights. Having left his lab later at night than he should have, he found himself wandering the halls again. Inevitably that led to him avoiding his own quarters he'd shared with her. Which, of course, left him wondering yet again why she had died. It was one hell of a messed up universe they lived in that she would live ten thousand years in a form she despised, hundreds of years underground as a prisoner on the edge of starvation, survived the impossible conversion from Wraith to human, only to die so suddenly and—in his mind—unfairly after being human and happy for so short a time.

Not a day went by that he didn't think of her. She still found a way into his every waking, and often sleeping moments. So many memories…and not nearly enough. Staring up at the sky he both cursed and thanked God for all of it. Because, even had he known what was to come, he could not have helped loving her as he had. Her innocence had lured him in. Her strength had captivated him.

And he would give anything to have that back, right now.

~o~o~o~

His chest heaving, Evan flopped onto the mats.

He'd spent the last few hours beating the practice dummies until his hands and feet, and many other places, were numb. He knew he would pay for it later, but he just didn't give a damn right now. He'd come full circle. After half a night spent tossing and turning, he'd given up on sleep. He knew he was going to suffer later, since he had a full day ahead of him, but it just didn't seem to matter right now.

Something had triggered his memories. For the life of him, he couldn't think of what. One minute he'd been dozing off and the next he'd heard Alex laughing. Following that was a memory of the first time Krissy had had the bright idea of dying Alex's hair. The initial results had been nothing short of comical, but Alex had loved it. For whatever strange reason, the auburn red hair dye had come out carrot orange. Though everyone else laughed, Alex thought anything—literally anything—other than white was an improvement. Thankfully, it had washed out after a few days.

After giving up on sleep, he'd spent most of the night beating dummies, practicing forms, and just exploring those memories. He was tired of running. He was tired of hiding. And he was tired of having to put those memories away where they wouldn't hurt so damn much.

Laying there trying to slow his racing heart and heaving breaths, he couldn't help but wonder all over again. Why couldn't it have been him? Why hadn't she fed on him? Why didn't she try to save herself?

Closing his eyes, he groaned. It didn't matter anymore. It was done. She was gone. All that mattered now is how much he wanted her back.

I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in yeah yeah

.

It was time.

He'd put this off way longer than he ever should have. And he had no one to blame but himself.

Still feeling the throbbing headache of his hangover, Sheppard found himself standing in Alex's old quarters. It seemed like no one even remembered she had once stayed in these rooms. But he hadn't forgotten. He still very clearly remembered the first time he'd seen the wall to wall photographs of the sky. The north wall was the night sky. The west wall was for sunsets. The south wall was daytime skies, cloudy and clear. The east wall was for sunrises. Hundreds of them stared back at him.

He should have taken them down months ago.

Even her old laptop was still sitting on the table as if waiting for her to come back. John wasn't even sure why he'd volunteered to do this. Maybe it was because Carson was still dealing with all her stuff in his quarters. Maybe because Evan had had a hard enough time working through his grief that he didn't need this. Maybe it was because he needed this for himself.

Whatever the reason, now that John stood there with a couple of boxes in hand, he almost didn't have the heart to do it. It was as if she was still there. As long as those pictures stood on those walls, a part of Alex still lived in Atlantis. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he started the packing.

He packed up everything but the pictures. Those he left on the walls, and then he locked the room.

Gone away and I pray for the strength to

Strength to carry on

As I am breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I still feel you though you're gone

.

"What did you do to yourself now, Major?" Carson asked seeing the man limping into the infirmary, bleeding from his left leg.

"Nice to see you too, Doc," Lorne grumbled, his foul mood all over his face. "I fell."

"Uh huh," Carson said. "I thought you were off world for the next few days."

"I was," Lorne replied, grunting as he hopped up onto a gurney. "Bad day."

"I see that."

Instead of putting on gloves, Carson shoved his hands in his pockets. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes Lorne hadn't seen in quite some time. It was almost worth the sutures just to see that look again.

"Doc?" he asked warily.

"Well, I'm sorry, son. I'm going to have to pass you off on Doctor Knightley."

"Excuse me?" Lorne asked, feeling his face flushing already.

"I'm meeting with Doctor Weir in a few minutes. Not to worry, Rebecca's quite good with sutures. A very deft hand, I hear."

He knows, Lorne thought with a sinking heart as pressed his lips into a thin line for a moment. "If you say so, Doc. Have fun at your meeting."

Carson grinned one more time before walking away. Before he even had a chance to get out of sight, Doctor Knightley nearly collided with him carrying a tray of equipment. With a far more serious look than he had given Lorne, he told the doctor about her patient. Lorne watched from where he sat on the gurney not sure if he wanted to strangle the man or thank him. Guess he would just have to play it cool and hope he didn't make a total fool of himself in front of her.

"Hiya, Doc," Lorne greeted, trying for chipper and just hoping his racing heart didn't show.

"Good evening, Major," she returned with a rather severe look, not helped in the least by her hair being up in a French braid instead of something more casual. "Doctor Beckett tells me you were showing off for your new team and had an accident."

"He what?!"

Doctor Knightley chuckled as she broke into a grin. "Just kidding. Well at least you weren't up to something stupid, like half the people in this city."

Lorne chuckled at that. "Define 'stupid', Doc. There's a lot of room for interpretation there."

"Call me Rebecca," she told him with her back to him as she washed her her hands. "And 'stupid' can actually mean a lot of things. I reserve that judgment for my own interpretation of events."

"Well, in that case, I would hope you don't classify a clumsy slide down a rocky hill to be 'stupid'."

Pulling on a pair of gloves, she turned back toward him, "Not at all. You're safe, Major."

"Evan," he said, suddenly remembering that he hadn't extended the same courtesy to her and just barely managing to control his flush enough that his ears didn't glow.

For a moment, he could have sworn her cheeks were a bit redder than he remembered. But, then again, he knew he was crushing and was probably seeing what he wanted to see. Ever since Alex had told him she caught him staring, he'd gone out of his way to avoid the infirmary and her. Thanks to Carson, he wasn't going to get out of this one. Now if only his heart would slow down. Praying he didn't make a fool of himself, he smiled as she sat down and inspected his leg.

"I don't typically find deep lacerations needing sutures a reason to smile, Evan," she said told him, never having moved her eyes from his wound.

Now he was certain his face was red. "I suppose falling down a rocky hill just to get a date would be classified as 'stupid', right?" he very nearly did a face palm when he realized what he'd said. Yep, I'm an idiot. And I don't even have drugs as an excuse.

Rebecca blinked. It seemed to take her a moment to process exactly what had just happened. "Was that an invitation?" she finally asked, her face flaming red.

"You know what? That was stupid. Look, I didn't mean to make you feel...I'm sorry. I was just...I'm going to shut up now. But I'll understand if you want someone else to see to my leg," Lorne told her, finally managing to recover some of his composure.

"Has anyone ever told you how cute you are when you're discomfited?"

Evan blinked in surprise.

"And, yes, I would love a date," she said, standing up to get some supplies out of a nearby cabinet. "I just never pictured you as the type to to be so nervous asking a woman out."

Certain his ears were glowing at this point, he wasn't sure he dared open his mouth again. "Sorry to disappoint."

Turning back around and setting a tray of supplies beside the bed she cocked an eyebrow at him. "Who said I was disappointed? If anything, it's endearing. Unexpected, but definitely not disappointing."

"Well, what were you expecting? I just march in here and ask you out on a date?"

"Good God no! That would have had me running away. I don't like public displays."

"Really?"

"Yes, so don't get any funny ideas about making out in hallways," she said holding up a syringe threateningly.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Besides, Alex told me you were shy. I just didn't believe it," she said, turning the needle of anesthetic toward his leg.

"She did? Really?"

"Yes," she said, carefully making the first injections.

Evan bit his lip for a moment at the sting. "Wait, if you already knew, why didn't you say anything?"

Now Rebecca's face was scarlet to the ears, but her hand never wavered as she continued to inject the wound. She was quiet for so long he almost told her not to answer. But then she finally said, "Because I thought she was teasing me, at first. And then...I didn't think you were ready for something like that."

Now his grin was gone. Was he ready? He could remember a time not so long ago when he was certain he'd never go through that kind of pain again. Was he really ready for something more than just a few dates and a good time? For a while he just watched her work, considering these things.

"It's okay, Major. Maybe another time, then."

"Evan, remember? And...I don't know. I don't know that I'll ever be ready. Does that scare you?"

Rebecca shook her head slightly, the needle steady in her hands. Obviously she was using it as an excuse not to have to look him in the eye. But he could sense her disappointment. She must be thinking he was just out for another fling. "Not really."

He could almost hear Alex in the back of his mind threatening what she would do to him if he screwed this up. That made him grin. "Well it scares the crap outta me. Because I really don't want to screw this up. So, yeah, I'm game if you are. But don't laugh too hard when I fall on my face from time to time."

Finally meeting his eyes, she grinned in return. "Then it's a good thing I'm a doctor, isn't it?"

Thinking how beautiful she was when she smiled, he was certain this was more than a fling. And he hadn't been lying when he said he was scared of messing this up. But, as he watched her work, feeling his heart still racing, he could almost hear Alex cheering him on.

~o~o~o~

As Sheppard found himself slammed to the mats for the umpteenth time today, he didn't bother to even stop for a moment to breathe. He rolled smoothly to his feet. He'd been at this for nearly an hour with Ronon, and he wasn't slowing down. Both their chests were heaving as they squared off again. He smirked with the satisfaction of knowing he'd at least made the large man break a sweat this time.

Over the years he'd learned a lot from a variety of people. But he knew he'd never had a chance to beat Ronon, even on the big man's worst day with a broken leg. But that wasn't going to stop him from trying today. In seconds he was on his back again, this time with Ronon's hand holding him down by the chest. And, for some reason, he wasn't moving. The irritated look on Ronon's face said more than the lack of movement.

"We're done." And, with that, he grabbed Sheppard by the arm and yanked him to his feet.

"What the hell was that?"

"We're done."

"Why?"

"I don't know what you think you've got to prove, but you're not using me to do it."

"I'm not trying to prove anything," Sheppard protested. "I just wanted a good work out."

"Fine. Use someone else."

"What? Not up for it?"

Ronon gave him a look that made him feel like he'd just grown another head. Okay, that was pretty stupid, John admitted to himself. But he wasn't in the mood to analyze his behavior. He just wanted to wear himself out and get some sleep tonight. "Fine. I'll see if Sergeant McClain is up for a round," he decided, heading toward his bag and radio.

Ronon, already standing over there, blocked his path.

"What? You said to use someone else."

"Having someone beat you up isn't going to bring her back."

Now Sheppard felt he'd been slapped. And, for some reason, slapping always hurt the worst to him; verbal or otherwise. So, now, of course he was pissed. "You're right. We're done."

For a moment, Ronon looked like he was going to take Sheppard to the mats again and maybe sit on him to keep him there this time. Then he stepped aside and crossed his arms as if daring Sheppard to go for his bag. Sheppard eyed him warily as he stepped up. Just when he had his back turned, of course, is when Ronon made his move.

"You need to stop feeling guilty about moving on. That's what we do."

John froze, his radio in hand. His back still to Ronon, he considered taking a swing at the big man. "What makes you think that—"

"Because I know you."

Smart ass attitude firmly in place now he turned around. "Do you now?"

"Yes, I do."

With that, Ronon grabbed his own bag and headed out. For half a second Sheppard had the urge to throw something at his friend and teammate. Trying to figure out exactly what it was he was feeling, even if not the why, he just stood there, staring at the door. Feeling something crunch in his hand, he groaned aloud while silently cursing himself. The earpiece was cracked. Rodney was going to be pissed. Maybe he could pass it off as an accident or something.

But, instead of heading for Rodney's lab to fix his radio, he leaned back and then slid down the wall. He wasn't worried about his introspection being interrupted. This had been Alex's favorite sparring room because no one really used it. And now it was his favorite sparring room for the same reason.

But was that really why he was here? Was there actually something to what Ronon had said? Was it something else altogether?

His racing heart slowing bit by bit, he starting coming down from the workout high. He remembered the last time he'd been in here with Alex. It had been right after the rest of her team had disappeared in a Wraith dart and they were both fairly certain they were all as good as dead. Was that why he'd come here? Because he could still feel her presence?

His introspection lasted all of maybe five minutes. Sitting there in the quiet of the sparring room, he knew. He knew he was over it. He knew he'd moved on. He knew Ronon was right. He knew his misplaced sense of guilt was just that, misplaced. But her presence just wouldn't go away, and he was just going to have to live with that.

He also knew that he was badly going to regret this match in the morning. Time for a hot shower and a good night's sleep.

~o~o~o~

It was too much. He should have asked someone to come with him.

Carson stood just inside the door to the quarters he'd shared with Alex. He was just done. He was done trying to pretend she was still with him. He was done trying to convince himself he would be okay. He was done looking at her stuff. He was done trying to fight back the memories. It was time to pack up her stuff.

Now that he was here, though, with a couple of boxes, he just couldn't do it. Besides, what would he do with it all? Throw it away? It's not like she had a next of kin. For a moment he just stood there, not even really sure what he could do with it all. Maybe he should just pack his stuff and move out, instead. Yeah, that would work.

The door chime had him nearly jumping out of his skin. Forgetting the box in his hands he turned around and opened the door. Sheppard caught sight of the box.

"Bad timing, huh?"

Remembering the box, Carson blushed and tossed it aside. "Not at all, Colonel," he said trying to cover himself and refocus. "I was just…Can I help you?"

"Look, I know you're off duty. I was going to ask you something. Never mind that, though. You want some help? I packed up her stuff in her old quarters not too long ago. I can…"

Carson blinked. Did Sheppard really just…

"No, thank you, Colonel. What did you do with it? If I may ask."

Now it was Sheppard's turn to look sheepish. "I didn't know what to do. So I left most of it in boxes in her quarters and sealed the door. I turned in any Atlantis-issue stuff. But, yeah, I figured you weren't ready to deal yet."

Carson seemed to consider this for a moment. "Can you unseal the door? I will have some more stuff to add."

"Sure thing. Look, Carson, we both know I'm not very good at this stuff. You want me to call Evan, or someone else? Y'know, moral support and all that," Sheppard asked uncomfortably.

He couldn't help but chuckle. No, Sheppard wasn't very good at this, but it was nice of him to offer. "No, thank you, John. It is appreciated."

"Right. I'll catch you tomorrow, then, Doc."

"Good night, Colonel."

For a moment after the door closed, Beckett considered things. It would appear everyone else had moved on. He didn't really feel bad for taking so long to let go. It would probably still be months yet before he could let go. But he had to start somewhere, and this was just as good as any. Turning back to the room, he set one box on his side of the bed, and one box on Alex's side of the bed. He was going to pack up both. It was time to move out.

I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in yeah yeah

.

Heaving a sigh of relief and feeling like he'd just dodged a bullet, Sheppard headed down the hall away from Carson's quarters. He genuinely felt bad for his friend, but he'd had enough of this whole mess. He'd already moved on. He might have some lingering issues from time to time, but that he could deal with. Watching Carson pack up Alex's stuff, likely crying the whole time…nope. Just nope. For a moment he toyed with the idea of calling in Evan, or maybe even Daniels anyway.

He didn't realize he'd been so deep in thought. Next thing he knew he was in his quarters. The crystal he'd removed to seal her quarters was still in his bedside table. He wasn't even really sure why he kept it there. Half of him had wanted to throw it off the side of the city so no one would ever invade that space again. But, if anyone deserved to spend time in a place that held so much of Alex, it was Carson.

And, of course, now that the doctor knew about it, he would probably be making regular trips there.

For a moment he tossed the crystal in his hand considering. But he already knew what he was going to do. That place was not his alone. It never should have been. He should have told Carson and probably even Evan and the others sooner. Again he was lost in his thoughts too deeply to realize where he was going or even what he was doing. He stood in front of the door just long enough to brace himself. Putting the crystal back in place, he opened the door.

The wall to wall pictures stared back at him. It was still a beautiful sight. And, though her presence was still strong in this room, he was happy to note, it didn't hurt so much. Now he could see her happy. He could remember her smile. He could hear her laugh. He could clearly see the side of her so few ever really saw. Here, he could do that. Thinking to himself that this was probably a lot less painful than the hangovers, he smiled. He left the room and left the door unlocked.

I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in yeah yeah

.

Carson very nearly dropped the box in his hands when the door opened. The pictures were still there. She had even continued to gather more after she had moved in with him. He wondered what she had done with them. It didn't even occur to him that she was still bringing them here to put up on the walls. But the night sky near the bottom with the six moons he had taken for her, after they were living together.

With numb hands he set the box on the floor just inside the doorway. One box. That's all there had been of her in his quarters, realistically. It felt like there should be so much more. He didn't even notice the other boxes across the room. He was again captivated by the photos. There were so many. He'd forgotten how every wall had been almost completely covered, ceiling to floor.

For a moment, he stood in the center of the room taking all of it in. His heart raced and he could feel the lump forming in his throat already. He couldn't remember the last time he'd cried. He'd been so emotionally exhausted for all these months that he just didn't have anything left. As he breathed through the pain now, he was amazed to feel himself smiling. God, he couldn't remember the last time he'd smiled.

"Oh, Alex…" he heard himself say her name for the first time in months.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he just took it all in. A part of her was still here. And it was happy. She had been happy here, too.

I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in and I'm breathing you out

I'm breathing you in yeah yeah

.

This is stupid, Evan thought to himself.

Yet, as he stood outside the door to Alex's old quarters he couldn't deny his racing heart and sweating hands. Part of him was terrified. It felt like he was about to reopen an old wound. But after John told him that Carson was packing up all her stuff and confessed that her old quarters were still virtually untouched, he knew he had to see it for himself. He was carrying two canvasses, if only to justify to himself the visit.

He wondered if anyone ever really "got over" the death of a loved one. He knew, despite his attitude and discussions with shrinks that he still hurt over his father's death. Alex was just the most recent. Most painful, definitely, but there were plenty more. He'd come to terms with the fact that she was gone. He'd even dealt with the sense of unfairness. The hardest had been dealing with the fact that, sometimes, he could still feel a part of her in his mind. It was as if a part of himself had died with her; and he had no doubts it had something to do with the brief telepathic connection they had shared.

Glancing down at the canvasses, he very nearly turned around. He was unspeakably glad this area was fairly unused, because if anyone else had seen him standing there staring at her door, he would have felt even more foolish. Finally, he made up his mind.

Opening the door, he already knew what to expect. He'd seen the pictures enough times when swinging by her quarters to invite her to a run, or dinner, or something else. He'd expected that. What he hadn't expected was the sense of her in there. She was still there. He could feel it. This was a part of her she'd left behind, knowingly or unknowingly. He took a deep breath as he stepped through the door. Yes, it still hurt, it probably always would. But, at least for the moment, it felt more like meeting up with an old friend. For one, brief moment, he entertained the idea of holding a one-way conversation with her. Then he shook it off and turned back to why he was here.

Much as Alex would have loved to hear about how he'd finally managed to work up the courage to ask Rebecca out on a date, that was not why he had come. To justify this visit, he'd brought two canvasses. One was the night sky he'd painted for her that Carson had given back when they returned to Atlantis. The other was an image of her from the shoulders up, smiling and looking up to the sky. He shook off the feeling that this room was quickly becoming some kind of shrine, and propped the two paintings on the bed. Stepping back, he took a moment to take in the whole room.

Then he smiled, knowing he was going to be okay, and headed for the door.

"Good bye, Alex," he whispered to the air, imagining her giving him one last wave as he left.


	4. New Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorne picks his new team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I admit. This is another ficlet that is based off Factus Humana. But, in this case, whether you've read it or not, this should make sense. But, you may not care for it. You won't hurt my feelings if you scroll on by.
> 
> Enjoy!

Walking down the rows of potentials, Major Lorne eyed each one closely. Colonel Sheppard had been riding his ass about getting his new team together; especially now that his broken arm had healed and he was declared fit for duty by both Doctor Beckett and Doctor Heightmeyer. It had been long enough and blah blah blah.

Fine.

Sergeant Kristen Daniels he was keeping. That much he knew. He had her standing behind him. He needed two more. Every one he now faced had passed the physical tests. They'd all been trained for off world missions. Every single one of them was capable and experienced. Some were military and others were scientists.

And not a one of them could live up to the standard he'd set.

One by one he ticked them off his list. Too whiny. Too demanding. Too picky. Too bitchy. Too quiet. Too talkative. Too something. If Sheppard was going to make him put together a new team now, then he would do it his way.

"Is there anyone here who doesn't know Sergeant Daniels?"

No one moved.

"Good, then this will be easy. First question, how many of you want Daniels to stomp your ass into the ground? If you don't, leave now."

A couple of people looked perplexed, but had obviously seen what she could do. Without a word, they walked out.

"Excuse me, Major Lorne?"

"Yes?"

"What's this about? We already passed our physicals."

"So I've been told. And that's not what this is about. If there's anyone here who would not be willing to put your life in Daniels' hands right now, leave."

Now there were signs of irritation. A few more walked out.

Well, that's a start, Lorne thought hopefully.

"If there's anyone here that doesn't like me or Daniels, leave."

Only one walked out.

And then there were ten, he thought to himself nodding.

"Now then, look around at each other. Think about this: If you were to go off world today, who would you want with you? Who would you want to pull your ass out of the fire? Who would you be willing to die with?"

"Wait, wait, wait. You're the muscle, we're the brains. What's all this talk of dying?"

"Doctor Rawkes, right?"

"Yes."

"Leave."

"Excuse me?"

"Did I stutter? I said leave," Lorne told him calmly.

"What the hell? I just asked a simple question."

"And I made a simple statement. If you're not willing to follow that, you never had a chance to be on my team in the first place. But if you really want an answer, I'll tell you. Sergeant Daniels, what was your major in university?"

"Computer engineering."

"And I, Doctor Rawkes, majored in geology. Why we left those career paths is irrelevant. We are not the brawn to your brains. And to think otherwise shows your ignorance. We were hand-picked for the Stargate Program because of our additional skills, not despite them. Now leave. And that goes for anyone else that feels the same way."

He was the only one that left. Even better.

"Now, as I was saying. If you look around this room and you see even one person you are not willing to die with or for, then you need to step out."

No one moved.

"Good. That narrows it down considerably. Most of you think that it's just a quick hop to one planet after another. And, for the most part, you would be correct. But it only takes that one time, one incident of bad luck, for everything to go to hell. And, when it does, you better be damn sure that the person you're trapped with, the person covering your ass, is someone you're willing to trust with your life. Am I clear?"

Nods all around.

"Now that the easy part is out of the way, we can get down to business."

That made them nervous. Which was good. Because now he measured them against criteria none of them would believe, even if they knew. With Alex's sense of wonder, strength, insatiable love for life, and her smile in mind, Lorne began to narrow down the remaining candidates even further.

Having experience was all well and good. Having a team you trusted was great. Having a team that truly loved what they did and shared that sense of wonder and thrill of new things every time they stepped through the gate was critical to him. Sure, more people would die under his command. Maybe today, maybe tomorrow, maybe in the years to come. But at least if it came to that, he could remember them and then tell their families with all honesty that they died doing something they loved.

He prayed it would never happen, but he knew it would. He'd come to terms with what it meant to be in a commanding position. By the time he finished, he could almost feel Alex smiling for him as the prepped his new off world team.


	5. Pre-Sunday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, for anyone keeping up with my stuff, I've kinda got this informal series going called the "Cursed Colonel". What I mean by informal is that there are references throughout various other fics. The list thus far includes "Ylyanna" and "Vigil". But there's going to be more.
> 
> In the meantime, enjoy this little tidbit!

"All teams, sir?" Major Lorne asked incredulously.

"Yes."

"On stand down?"

"Yes."

"For an entire day?"

"Yes, Major," Colonel Sheppard said again, the irritation becoming clear.

Lorne leaning on the back of a chair across the desk from his CO seemed to be contemplating this with an unusual amount of seriousness. Nodding to himself as if having come to a decision, he brought his attention back to Sheppard.

"Sir, should I prepare for the apocalypse now, or wait until we know more about the nature of the devastation?"

Sheppard couldn't help himself. He knew he should be irritated, maybe even pissed off with the nickname given to him by his SiC. But the absolute seriousness on his XO's face was priceless. Laughing, Sheppard grabbed a piece of paper and wadded it up to throw at the man who batted it away easily with a chuckle.

"So this is for real? We're recalling all teams and standing down?" a bit more lightly, but not quite grinning.

"Yes, Major. You've got nothing to worry about. This has nothing to do with the 'Cursed Colonel', as you call me."

Lorne smirked. "So we might survive this after all. Good to know."

For that one, Sheppard kicked under his desk sending the chair Lorne was leaning on tilting dangerously, threatening to make the man face plant the seat. Of course, with all the Major's love of martial arts he recovered his balance a bit more easily than Sheppard would have liked. "Doctor Weir is sending out word to the rest of the city as we speak."

"So she's the one behind this?"

"Yep," Sheppard replied, crossing his arms and leaning back. "The city is safe…for now."

"Then the real question is, what are we going to do with ourselves with a whole day off?"

"Not a damn thing, Evan," Sheppard replied with a grin that Lorne returned.


	6. The Evil OverLorne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full credit for the title and the nickname goes to KeianaLunae. The mention in a review tickled me so much I just had to do something with it; even at the ungodly hour of 1 AM EST.
> 
> Yes, the taskmaster (Lorne) is at it again. I might be allowed to sleep next year.
> 
> Enjoy!

Maybe it was the nice weather. Maybe it was the after celebration buzz. Maybe it was something they had eaten or had to drink at the feast. Major Lorne would probably never know exactly what started it, but he'd never forget how it ended.

He and his new team consisting of Lieutenants Shingleton, Cayton, and Keane were out on only their third off-world mission together since Lorne had lost Stevens and Walker. Lorne had specifically picked the three of them, though they had no idea why. And, if he was honest with himself, he didn't exactly know why either. For him it was something of a gut instinct after watching the three of them over the last few months that he'd been in Atlantis. The other two missions they'd had were pretty normal, quick recon missions. This one had turned into them dropping in unexpectedly on a civilization in the middle of a harvest festival. Despite it being a day's hike away from the gate, Weir and Sheppard had authorized them to stay and make friendly with the locals during the festival, and report back the next day.

After indulging in the festivities, they'd made their excuses and left shortly after dark; Major Lorne hoping to get them at least part way back to the gate before their morning hike. Wanting to get at least some sleep, they'd setup camp close to what they thought was a late enough hour for sleep. Apparently it wasn't late enough, Lorne considered as the three teammates sat chattering away quietly on the other side of the campfire. Of course, Keane was supposed to be on watch; but the other two felt the need to join him.

At first Lorne tuned out whatever they were saying. He knew he'd been a bit distant since they'd been working together, but that didn't seem to bother them. By this point everyone in the city knew of his recent losses, though no one ever discussed it. And, for many of them, he was still something of an unknown. He knew he wasn't the most social person when he was in a mood, and he had definitely been in a mood since losing Walker and Stevens; but seeing the three of them whispering excitedly with him only three meters away and totally left out almost irked him. Of course, a lot of things irked him irrationally lately.

"And then he….the Evil Overlord…otherwise…died laughing…oh and…"

He caught bits and pieces of the conversation even when he'd tried to tune them out. Heaving a sigh, Lorne gave up on sleep and rummaged through his tac vest for some water. The sudden silence on the other side of the campfire as three sets of eyes locked on him was almost comical. For a moment he could see the worry in their eyes wondering if he'd heard something they weren't wanting. For one brief moment he almost wanted to take advantage of the situation and do something wicked. But, truth be told, he wasn't in the mood.

Snickering, he crossed his legs and faced the fire. "Don't let me, interrupt. I'm just not as tired as I thought."

"Yes, sir," they said, warily. Glancing to one another, it was blatantly obvious either he'd been the source of their conversation, or they were genuinely concerned that what they were discussing could possibly get them into some kind of trouble with him.

For the second time, Lorne snickered. "I heard mention of an Evil Overlord. I don't suppose you three were discussing me, by any chance?"

That lightened things up. Cayton snickered. "No, sir."

"Too bad," Lorne told them, struggling to maintain a serious expression.

Shingleton and Keane glanced at each other questioningly before Keane explained, "We were discussing a prank someone pulled on Doctor Kavanaugh."

Lorne's brow furrowed as he tried to recall all the scientists that he'd met since he'd joined the expedition. "Not familiar with them. Should I be?"

"No, sir. You're one of the lucky ones, then," Cayton replied with a grimace at some recollection or another.

Now Lorne's eyebrows shot up. "That bad, huh?"

All three of them glanced to each other before nodding, obviously not trusting their mouths not to get them into trouble.

"You guys can talk, you know," Lorne said, taking another sip of his water and then capping it. "I'm not the type to go around handing out disciplinary actions without a damn good reason. So tell me about this prank."

The three of them glanced to one another again before Shingleton shrugged in a "well if one of us is going to hang might as well be me" kind of way. With a wicked grin he relayed a story of a plant with sedative properties, some white hair paste, some Wraith make-up, some really good screams, and a stunner. Apparently that incident had left the city tiptoeing around the then Major Sheppard for quite some time as the man struggled not to bring down disciplinary action on those he knew were responsible when all he wanted to do was congratulated them. Lorne just shook his head.

Amateurs, he thought to himself, but said nothing.

"You don't approve, sir?" Keane asked, obviously a bit more nervous than just relaying a story should have made him.

Eyeing the three of them closely in silence, Lorne debated. Catching sight of their nervous squirming he smiled and shook his head. Well, if he was going to lighten up the tension and get to know his new team, this was as good a way as any.

"I never said that," he finally told them. "If anything, I disapprove of the obvious flaws. But, it was my understanding you all were short on supplies the first year, and didn't have much to work with in the first place."

"Right, we didn't have…"

The two face palms to either side of him answered Lorne's question better than a confession. Chuckling, he shook his head and asked, "So, who's idea was it to send him screaming down the halls?"

"Keane's," Cayton confessed, seeing as they were already in this deep.

"Uh huh. And who was the Evil Overlord?"

With a poorly concealed snicker Shingleton answered, "Colonel Sheppard. He was still pretty new and establishing himself, so some of us had to give him a hard time."

"Right. I'm sure that went over well."

The trio of grimaces answered that.

"You've got me curious, sir," Keane finally asked, eyeing his team leader. "You said you disapprove of the flaws. So, what would you have done?"

Lorne got serious for a moment. He'd already turned the plan inside out in his head and come up with half a dozen scenarios. "This will never happen, and these words never leave this planet. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," they all agreed.

Settling on the one with the most impact he crossed his arms and began to speak. Fifteen minutes later three sets of eyes widened in horror were locked on him. For a few seconds after he finished all that could be heard was the crackling of the fire. Eventually the three had come to terms with the potential massive devastation of such an evil plot and turned to the others for confirmation that they'd just heard what they thought they'd heard. Seeing in their expressions they all grasped the outcome, Lorne sat back eyeing his team.

"Evil…" Keane said.

Shingleton shook his head. "Epic…"

Then the three of them turned back to him with matching grins. "Sir, you are just…wow," Cayton finally told him. "I get the feeling we're going to get along just fine."

"Evil OverLorne!" Shingleton spouted laughing.

"What?" Lorne asked.

"Dude, that so works!" Keane agreed as Cayton nodded enthusiastically.

"Did you seriously just call me…"

"Yes, sir. The Evil OverLorne," Shingleton repeated proudly.

Now Lorne did laugh. Yep, he was going to enjoy working with these guys. "Then it's a good thing for all our sakes it stays here on the planet along with everything else we just discussed."

For a moment the three of them looked disappointed. But they had all agreed. Lorne was ever so grateful he'd thought to mention that before he started. Otherwise this would have gotten back to Sheppard eventually. And he still had half a mind to prank the man one day. Giving warning by earning a reputation without proof would not help matters. For now, though, he would just have to be satisfied with evil plots that never came to fruition. Although, with these guys….

"Oh, and the next time you want to pull off a prank without earning a disciplinary action, clue me in. I'll see what I can do."

"Yes, sir!"


	7. AU The Ark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously more Lorne-whump. So, here's another example of what happens when Lorne gets his way. As before, this is an AU that absolutely happened somewhere in some universe. Because he said it did.
> 
> Unfortunately, this one started very simple and short, and then grew rather monstrous. I feel like it's almost too long for a one-shot; but I couldn't really find any good chapter breaks, either. Besides, it's an AU I feel belongs in this mixed category.
> 
> Enjoy!

Lorne felt the moon beginning to skim the upper atmosphere. They were out of time.

Damn, the Colonel's not going to like this, he thought to himself.

"Are you going to be able to get her out of there, or not?" Sheppard asked McKay, as if already knowing the answer and not liking it one bit.

"I have no idea how to determine who's who in this thing," McKay shot back. "Look, maybe if I had a few hours…"

"Well, you don't!" Sheppard snapped.

"Yes, I know that!" Rodney snapped back. "But short of randomly beaming people out one by one…"

"There's a thousand people in this thing!"

"I am aware of that!"

At that moment the whole moon shook violently. Lorne's lips thinned to a fine line. This conversation could go on until they all burned up in the atmosphere, but it wouldn't solve anything. "It's time to go, sir," Lorne called, hoping to verbally knock some sense into them.

"Just give us a minute!" Sheppard demanded, ready to go back to his argument with McKay.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we don't have a minute," Lorne snapped. "As soon as this rock hits the atmosphere, it's going to start to break up. We have to go now."

Sheppard was silent for all of a second. Obviously he'd come up with something. "Alright, can you get this thing disconnected?" he asked McKay.

"Yes, but I've already told you, there's no way I can rig up a compatible power source for the Jumper."

"I'm not talking about the Jumper."

"What?"

"I've always wanted to fly a space shuttle. Now's my chance."

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no…"

Having made up his mind, there was nothing else to discuss. Lorne watched in wide-eyed shock at what his heroically insane commanding officer was proposing. It was nothing short of outright suicide.

"Just get this thing disconnected and help these guys get to the Jumper while I suit up."

Rodney, still thinking he could talk his friend out of suicide, tried yet again. "Look, I know how much you love to think you can fly anything, but it is not as—"

"Listen! Just get the thing disconnected! That's an order!" Sheppard yelled one last time before heading to the Jumper for another EVA suit.

Major Lorne clenched his fists as he stared at Doctor McKay's back, having watched the whole exchange. He knew his CO well enough by now to know that the man knew he likely wasn't going to survive, but was damn well going to do it anyway; because it just might save Teyla. A second later a terrified but determined McKay turned around and came back, brushing past Lorne roughly. A second after that Lorne had his own plan set as McKay started barking orders for those physically capable of assisting.

Minutes later the Major was pulling the storage device along the corridors toward the shuttle while Rodney and Ronon pushed.

"This is crazy," Lorne called out to the other two. "That thing is how many hundreds of years old? And it's out of fuel."

"The man said he could fly it," Ronon responded making Lorne laugh nervously.

Meanwhile Carson was finishing up with getting Colonel Sheppard suited up just down the hall. Carson's lips had thinned to a nearly invisible line as he tried to bite his tongue. "You do realize you're out of your bloody mind, right?"

"Yeah, probably," Sheppard muttered, doing some final checks on his suit.

Just down the corridor Lorne, Ronon, and McKay got the storage unit to the shuttle doors. Ronon and McKay turned around to come back toward Sheppard. Seeing his opening, Lorne kept pulling the storage device into the shuttle. He very nearly lost his footing and got run over by the damn thing as the entire moon shook violently yet again. By this point he was trembling in his suit. Forcing himself to calm as he had learned during basic training, he kept pulling.

"Alright, you're all set," McKay told Sheppard. "Once you're inside the shuttle it should be fairly easy to get the device into the receptacle."

"Alright, let's do it," Sheppard said, putting on his helmet.

"Just, can I say one more thing?" McKay asked, stopping Sheppard.

"As long as you say it as fast as you can," Sheppard said, staring down the two of them blocking the perpendicular corridor that connected to the shuttle.

"Don't do this. It's impossible," Rodney practically begged.

~o~o~o~

"Willing to bet a week's wages on that?" Lorne grinned hearing this over the radio as it came through Sheppard's helmet mic.

"Thanks for caring," Lorne heard next, just imagining what Doctor McKay's response had been.

"Alright, radio Atlantis as soon as you're clear," Colonel Sheppard got back to giving orders. "Keep a safe distance with the Jumper. I'll try to maintain radio contact."

Major Lorne listened, knowing he was out of time and about to be discovered. Having sealed both doors and locked the inner one, he knew he was safe. But he still had to hurry to get the storage unit connected to the shuttle's power as McKay had instructed. There was silence for a moment.

"Major Lorne, what's your location?" Sheppard asked directly over the radio.

Already screwing the power cable on Lorne replied in a voice more calm than he felt, "I'm on the shuttle and just finished connecting the receptacle. The doors are sealed and locked. You better hurry up and get to the Jumper, sir."

"Major, what the hell are you doing?"

Turning around and heading for the cockpit at the front Lorne said, "Remember what we talked about when I first came to Atlantis?"

"Yeah," Sheppard said, warily.

"I warned you, then."

"Get your ass back here! That's an order!"

The moon gave another violent shake, throwing them all into the walls.

"No time to argue, sir," Lorne reminded, ricocheting off a wall. "If you're going to play it like that then, I resign my commission and post, effective immediately. I hand my command and team over to you, Colonel. Now get to the damn Jumper!"

~o~o~o~

Sheppard, already on his way to the Jumper looked like he could take Ronon at this point and win in his rage. They all piled into the Jumper and Sheppard jumped into the pilot's chair. Still ready to do murder, he kept the radio open switching to the Jumper's speakers.

Never missing a beat in getting the Jumper powered up and out the doors, he said, "Damn it, Lorne. What the hell—"

Now in the ship's cockpit acquainting himself with the antiquated systems he cut off his former Colonel, "Sir, we're not leaving Teyla behind. But you're far more valuable to the Atlantis Expedition. I am—was—Second in Command, and expendable, by definition."

"The hell you are! We're clear!" Sheppard shouted back.

"Thank you, sir. I'll see you guys on the ground."

Sheppard ground his teeth already contemplating what he was going to do to the man if he survived.

"We're almost in the atmosphere," Doctor McKay cut in. "You've only for a few minutes to familiarize yourself with those controls."

"Already done," Lorne called back. "It's pretty straightforward."

"We're going to lose radio contact as we pass through the atmosphere."

"I know, Doctor McKay."

~o~o~o~

Lorne was surprised to find himself smiling at the annoying astrophysicist. Now committed to this course of action, he actually felt amazingly calm. But he knew that wouldn't last long.

~o~o~o~

"I'm saying that if you have anything you'd like to say, now would be a good time to say it."

Lorne couldn't help but laugh. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Doctor."

Sheppard kept his peace through this exchange, too busy with the Jumper to intervene. It was too late, anyway. Lorne was on his own.

"Getting some chop. Preparing to disengage."

"Hopefully the explosive bolts will throw him clear of the moon," McKay told them, pulling up the HUD to watch.

They watched as the little moon became a massive fireball as it entered the atmosphere.

"Initiating separation maneuver in three, two, one, mark!" Lorne called over the radio.

Sheppard, McKay, Ronon, and Beckett listened tensely as alarms went off in the cockpit on Lorne's end.

"Figures. Separation is negative. Switching to back-up."

The tension in the Jumper was thick enough to be felt. Even Beckett was clenching his fists. In the silence they all heard Lorne mumbling to himself.

"Disengage. Come on!"

This was followed by more alarms.

"Damn it!" Lorne said more loudly. "The bolts will not work. I repeat, the explosive bolts will not fire. Unable to separate ship. I don't know if you guys can hear me, but it looks like I'm going to have to ride this one down."

"What's happening?" Ronon asked.

"He can't separate the damn ship," Sheppard snapped. "He's going to burn up inside the moon."

The three could only watch the HUD as the moon began to break up. Seconds later the fireball quadrupled in size on the HUD as the moon exploded in all directions.

"Oh no…" McKay said, his eyes wide and his face pale in horror.

Suddenly there was a beep on the HUD as it caught sight of something larger in the debris field in the atmosphere. Sheppard smiled grimly, still hoping for a chance to tear into his XO afterward.

"There it is," Rodney called.

"That lucky son-of-a-bitch," Sheppard murmured.

Now they watched a second, much smaller fireball as it streaked across the sky. Sheppard could tell already that the angle of re-entry was far too steep. Not sure if the Major was even alive or conscious at this point he silently screamed at the man to adjust his angle.

~o~o~o~

Inside the shuttle cockpit, Lorne wished he could silence the symphony of alarms now going off. Focusing on the flaps, slats, ailerons, spoilers and elevators all run on hydraulics, he managed to get the shuttle out of its steep pitch. As it began to level off, he now had to worry about the speed. Manipulating the controls he had, he quickly found that there was no banking control. It didn't matter anyway. Without fuel this ancient tank was dropping like a rock. At best he could aim for the long desert he spotted and hope the terrain was smoother than it looked from above.

His heart racing, Lorne focused everything on keeping the shuttle upright. But the ground was closing far too fast. As the white sands of a daytime desert consumed his view of all but the flames dancing around the ship, he braced.

~o~o~o~

In the Jumper Sheppard followed close behind gritting his teeth. He knew there was no way for Lorne to really slow down the shuttle, but he mentally screamed it anyway. The silence in the Jumper as the four of them watched was thickened by the realization all over again that Lorne could not survive this. No inertial dampeners, and he was approaching the planet's surface at over two thousand miles per hour. Trained fighter pilot or not, the impact velocity was likely to kill him. Hoping for a miracle, Sheppard watched as the shuttle touched down.

And then it skipped back into the air and touched down again. And again, and again, growing slower with each impact. Sheppard smiled in pride at the Major's genius. Leave it to his second in command to find a way to slow without damaging the shuttle and its precious contents.

"Like a stone skipping over water!" McKay shouted excitedly, overcoming his initial confusion.

Still only a couple miles behind the shuttle as it came to a stop, Sheppard hurried toward a landing spot close by. "Colonel Sheppard to Major Lorne. What's your status?"

Silence.

"Lorne, this is Colonel Sheppard. Do you copy?"

Silence.

Back to clenching his jaw and glaring murderously, Sheppard set the Jumper down gently in the shadow of the shuttle ahead as the sand and dust were still settling. "Evan, do you copy?" Sheppard growled one last time leaving the pilot's seat.

Silence.

Turning to McKay Sheppard asked, "Can you tell if he's alive?"

"I'm trying. Just…wait"

Beckett's face was a reflection of McKay's as they both slumped in disappointment. For a minute, it almost seemed as if the crazy Major was going to pull it off. Ignoring them, Sheppard headed to the back. Opening the rear door he stormed out of the Jumper to take a visual accounting of the condition of the shuttle. The entire back section was ripped apart. A good quarter of the furthest rear section had obviously broken off when the moon had come apart.

"He's alive! The Jumper's detecting one life sign!" McKay called, too excited to bother with his radio.

Sheppard was still looking for a way to get into the rear when his radio crackled to life.

"This is M...Lorne. Colonel…Sheppard do…you copy?"

"Yeah, we're here, Major. Just sit tight, we're trying to find a way in," Sheppard replied, struggling to keep the relief out of his voice; he was still pissed.

"Is the shuttle intact?"

Confused for a moment, wondering why Lorne was asking, Sheppard replied, "Most of it. The rearmost section was torn off, but the rest looks good."

A shallow sigh of relief was heard through the radio, along with a short chuckle. "Doctor McKay, that's one week's pay you owe Colonel Sheppard."

"What?!" Rodney squawked right behind Sheppard making him jump.

"You heard me. If I can do it Sheppard…would have done…better…More style," Lorne told him with a grunt.

Sheppard grinned at this, the pride in his XO clear in his expression. But the smile was wiped off his face seconds later as Doctor Beckett keyed on his mic from where he was in the back of the Jumper.

"Major Lorne this is Doctor Beckett. What's the nature of your injuries?"

Sheppard froze, listening.

A light huff of laughter came over the radio followed by, "You don't miss…a thing do you…Doc?"

"No," Beckett replied sharply, not in the mood for banter. "You're breathing is labored and shallow. Chest injury. Restraining harness?"

For a moment there was just the sound of Lorne's breathing. "No, Doc. It's a bit…more complicated." There were a couple more breaths, followed by a deeper one, then. "A metal rod came through…the back of the seat. It's…penetrated my right chest…cavity, and out the front."

"My God," Beckett whispered, his mic off.

Sheppard's blood had run from cold to burning fury all in the space of a few seconds. He turned and ran back toward the Jumper. "Get back in the Jumper," he called to the others. "I've got an idea."

Powering up the Jumper, Sheppard listened as Beckett continued.

"How bad is the bleeding?" he asked, his face pale but controlled as he focused on listening to Lorne.

"I can't really tell…but I don't feel much…at all right now. Might just be…shock, right?" Lorne asked as if needing confirmation.

"Aye," Beckett replied, somewhat distracted with listening to the man's breathing for a moment. "But you sound pretty lucid, so far." Beckett closed his eyes silently praying the rod hadn't damaged the man's spinal column. "Major, you need to slow your breathing. Try to concentrate on deeper breaths, if you can."

Sheppard turned the Jumper and backed it up to the rear of the ship. The rear door of the Jumper now became a ramp as he settled the Jumper back on the ground.

"Sure, Doc," Lorne replied tiredly.

"Major!" Beckett snapped, grabbing about a dozen cases and throwing them at McKay and Sheppard. "Don't sleep! Focus on your breathing."

"Yeah, Doc, I'm here," Lorne called back after a moment. "But I might need someone…to keep me talking."

For a moment the three looked at each other, the silence drawing out.

"McKay, tell me about the exotic particle…problem you and your sister were…working on," Lorne said.

Still looking at each other, four sets of eyebrows went up at this.

"You were running into a problem with the exotic…particles creating a tear in the other universe…right?"

"Yeah, so?" McKay said, finally turning on his radio as he climbed up the ramp to the back of the ship staring at his tablet.

"What about reworking the bridge to…several universes simultaneously…minimizing the creation of exotic particles…in each?"

McKay, going over the schematics of the ship froze. "You've been spending way too much time with Zalenka," he finally muttered.

Again Lorne huffed a short laugh that turned into a grunt of pain. "Since being on Atlantis…I've spent too much time with a lot…of you guys. I got curious and started…learning a bit. It's interesting."

"I'm sure it is," Rodney mumbled. "Damn!"

"That doesn't sound too good, Rodney."

Turning to the others he held up his tablet, leaving his mic on. "The chamber with the storage device is intact, just up ahead. Beyond that, most of the section between that and Major Lorne has collapsed in on itself; probably during the initial impact. We're going to have to cut our way through to get to him."

"No worries, Doc...I'm not...going anywhere," Lorne told them in his typical dark humor, straining to take deeper breaths.

For a moment Sheppard, stared at the tablet. Finally he took it from McKay. "Rodney, take the Jumper to the gate. Radio Atlantis for more equipment—"

"I'll need some stuff, too," Beckett interrupted.

"And whatever he needs," Sheppard added. "Throw me the cutting torch, we're going to get started. Ronon, can you help with the lifting with your good arm?"

"Yeah."

"Good, Beckett, give McKay a list. Tell them to bring two Jumpers if they have to."

McKay hopped down the ramp and struggled to pull the torch and its case up to the ramp. Sheppard, lying flat at the edge of the ramp reached down to grab it with a grunt as he struggled to pull it back up. After a couple of deep breaths he rolled back to his feet.

"Wait here, Doc. I don't want anything falling on you," Sheppard told him.

For a moment Beckett looked like he was going to argue. Then Lorne's voice came back over the radio, having listened to all of this.

"Come on, Doc, tell me about your…last," brief coughing, "catch."

Frowning darkly at the sound of Lorne's coughing, but glad to note it wasn't a wet or heavy cough, Beckett keyed on his mic nodding to Sheppard and Ronon that he would stay put.

"You mean when I was on New Athos a few months back?" he said, distantly, already putting down a list of all the supplies and personnel he would be needing.

"Yeah."

Done with the list, Beckett turned his attention to his patient. "That was hardly worth mentioning. Total waste of time. Now M three X one two one, those were some winners."

"I've never been fishing before…How does that work, exactly?"

Already the sounds of Sheppard and Ronon moving stuff around deeper into the ship could be heard.

"Never been fishing?" Beckett asked, incredulously. "That's a shame. You don't know what you're missing."

"Well, Doc, I'm more inclined to paint the river…scene than to wade into it. I'm a city boy, remember?" Lorne confessed with no small amusement.

"Ye paint?" Beckett asked, surprised.

Lorne gave a grunt of pain followed a several very shallow breaths. "Yeah," he finally managed to get out.

"Major?" Beckett asked, when Lorne seemed to have stopped responding.

The sound of the cutting torch came from deeper in the shuttle.

"I'm here…Doc. Call me…Lorne, or Evan…" he mumbled something they couldn't make out. "Doesn't…matter now."

"Lorne, you need to slow your breathing. Concentrate," Carson warned again.

"Sorry…Doc…Starting to," he grunted in pain, "feel it…now."

"Hold tight, son, we're coming," he reassured the former Major silently screaming at Rodney to hurry up. "Right now, I want you to focus on my voice. Can you do that?"

"Yes…" Lorne was clearly panting, almost wheezing now.

"Good. I'm going to count, I need you to breath to the rhythm of my counting. Try to tune out everything but my voice. Can you do that, son?"

"You do…realize…that I'm…only maybe…a year…younger…right?" Lorne teased, trying to ease the tension, but his breathing had already more than alarmed Beckett.

"Aye, and if you want to see another birthday, you're going to shut up and listen now," Carson too worried to bother with further pleasantries.

~o~o~o~

In the cockpit, Lorne could hear the torch cutting away at something. He'd heard Sheppard and Ronon moving stuff around. They couldn't be that far away, so there was hope. But, at this point, he wasn't even sure what he was hoping for. The shock had worn off, and his head was clearing, but the right side of his chest was a mass of agony. The left side of his chest had taken to feeling heavy. It was getting harder to breathe.

Unable to move for the agony in his chest, he let his head lean back into the helmet, taking in the crystal clear blue sky above. Somewhere far away he wondered if that would be the last thing he saw. For a while his entire world narrowed to the doctor's soothing voice. Little by little, he was surprised to feel his breathing actually slowing, becoming slightly deeper. Beckett was right, he could breathe, when he focused.

"There, that's better," he heard Beckett say.

Not sure how long he'd been like that, he suddenly noticed the sound of other voices somewhere behind him in what he assumed was the crushed section.

"Thanks, doc," he said, not much above a whisper.

"Don't sleep!" Beckett snapped.

"I'm not," Lorne promised. "Just hurts to talk, anymore."

"Aye, I know, Evan. Hang in there," Beckett's voice had taken on a tight edge that bordered on panic.

And Lorne just couldn't bring himself to care.

~o~o~o~

Caught up in looking at the ship's schematics trying to find a way to get the Major some oxygen, he lost track of time for a minute. Seeing something he hadn't noticed earlier he smiled.

"Beckett to Sheppard."

"I'm here, Doc," Sheppard replied a moment later, as the sound of movement all around him signaled there were several men now working to get through to the front.

"Come to the rear. I need you in the Jumper."

"On my way."

"Bring the portable torch."

"Roger that. Sheppard out."

Grabbing one of his kits and checking it over to ensure it had all that was going to be needed, he slid down the makeshift ramp and into the Jumper. Not two minutes later Sheppard followed suit with the portable cutting torch right behind him.

"What's up?" Sheppard asked.

"Maj—Evan, can you see out the cockpit window?"

"Yeah."

The reply was so faint that Beckett's lips thinned to a white line for a moment. "Good. Hang in there just a bit longer, we're coming up topside with oxygen."

"Sure thing, Doc."

Turning to Colonel Sheppard, he showed him the schematics he'd just been viewing. "This is where Major Lorne is. You should be able to land a Jumper here," he pointed. "You might be able to cut a hole I the observation dome big enough for me to get him oxygen, at least."

Realizing what kind of delicate maneuvering it was going to take, Sheppard nodded understanding why the doctor hadn't bothered with Rodney or any of the others. "I can do it."

"Good," Beckett said his relief visible. "I'm ready when you are."

~o~o~o~

Lorne was so lost in focusing on his breathing, he almost forgot to stay awake. He was sure someone had been calling his name, but he just couldn't connect the dots anymore. He was so tired. The only thing that kept him from falling asleep was the constant flare of pain on the right side of his chest every time he tried to take a breath. Somewhere far away a couple of familiar voices were shouting at him. Suddenly a loud knock inches from his face brought his eyes open.

"Hey, Carson," he called, suppressing the urge to cough.

"That's better," Sheppard's voice came through the radio, popping up just behind Beckett. "Now be a good patient and listen to your doctor. He might even give you a sucker."

Seeing the pallor and tension in their faces, he could guess he'd probably at least dozed off and scared them pretty badly.

"Yes, sir," he said, with an attempt at a grin.

"Drop the formality, Evan," Sheppard called moving Carson aside so he could get to the dome's rim with the cutting torch.

With another half grin Lorne said, "Yes, sir," earning a glare from Sheppard just as he was putting on the safety glasses.

Setting torch to the metal Sheppard said, "So, I overheard you paint. What kind of stuff?"

Lorne thought for a moment, his oxygen starved brain trying to recall where that question had come from. "Oh, that," he said after a moment. "Scenery. Atlantis skylines lately."

"Any good?"

"Not really."

"Bet it works great with the ladies," Sheppard commented.

Lorne huffed a laugh, but didn't comment.

"I knew it. There had to be more than those dimples getting you all the attention. Doctor Cloudwalker's been stuck on you for months."

That got Lorne's attention. "Not likely."

Beyond the shower of sparks Lorne could see Sheppard smirking. "Yep. Figures you wouldn't notice since you're always making googly eyes as Doctor Dewar."

"Jealous much?" Lorne asked, not quite able to pull a smirk himself.

"Depends, are you going to teach me how to paint?"

"No."

"Then, yeah, a little."

Lorne huffed a laugh again, his face pulling into a grin for a moment. Sheppard was already halfway around the dome, now. He closed his eyes against the pain for a moment. When he next opened them, Doctor Beckett was peering through the glass.

"Stay awake, Maj-Evan," Carson demanded, correcting himself.

"I am," he snapped back, more angry that it came out barely above a whisper than the fact that the doctor kept having to remind him. Opening his eyes wide enough to convince Beckett, Lorne glared to be best of his ability. "Talk to me, Carson."

~o~o~o~

"Oh, well," Beckett stumbled, trying to refocus his attention away from trying to visually assess the damages. "How about family. You're from San Francisco, right?"

"Yeah. My mom and my sister still live there," Lorne replied his expression softening a little.

Still visually checking what he could and cursing the red space suit the man was in preventing him from seeing much of anything, he cast about in his mind for something else to say. "Sister? Any nieces or nephews?"

For a moment, Lorne's face lit up. "Yeah, two nephews."

Carson found himself shifting out of Sheppard's way as he moved back around toward the front. Silently blessing the man for his speed, Carson refocused on Lorne again. "And what are their names?"

"Alexander and Phillip," Lorne told him, struggling to keep a smile. "Four and six…They take after their mother…Little hellraisers."

Beckett smiled, seeing more animation in the Major than he had hoped.

"Really? And I supposed you were just a little saint," Sheppard added, still keeping up with the conversation.

"Only when I wasn't caught," Lorne gave back.

Carson chuckled. "Good, because you're too late. Saint Evan was a Scottish hermit in the Ninth Century."

Lorne visibly struggled to focus on Carson, feeling the pull of sleep again. "Catholic, Doc?"

"Aye."

Just then Sheppard turned off the torch. Leaning back he kicked a couple of times gently. When the dome didn't budge, he had Beckett get on the other side to keep it from slamming into Lorne's helmet. After a nod from Beckett, he reared back and kicked until he thought he glass would break. Finally the metal ring around the base of the dome gave way. Becket wasted no time in helping Sheppard lift it up and away.

The hole turned out to be a lot bigger than it looked. Coming back around to the front, he eyed the two feet of metal sticking out of the Major's chest. Carefully he dangled his legs over the edge and reached for Lorne's helmet. Once the helmet was removed, Lorne tilted his head back so Beckett could take off the CCA. Once that was clear, Evan gave a grateful shake of his head.

"Thanks," he said as Beckett reached into his kit for a portable oxygen tank and mask.

Behind him the sounds of moving metal and cutting could still be heard, but much louder now. For a couple of minutes Lorne just sucked in oxygen while focusing on his breathing. His dull expression began to become a bit more animated as he looked up at the two of them.

"Better now?" Beckett asked already knowing the answer.

Lorne just nodded, his eyes going from Beckett to Sheppard and back. Feeling as if his brain had just had a kick-start he asked them, "How did you get up here?"

"Jumper," Sheppard replied, throwing a thumb over his shoulder.

Lorne just nodded again letting that sink in. For a moment Beckett just looked into the Major's eyes trying to judge his lucidity. Seeming satisfied, he put the rubber band around the Major's head to hold the mask in place. Turning back to his kit he pulled out an Ancient scanner.

"I'm just going—"

Lorne's eyes suddenly went wide as he choked trying to scream.

"What is it?" Beckett started to ask.

Sheppard didn't need to ask. Only one thing would have done that. Reaching across Beckett he touched the end of the rod. Feeling it vibrating confirmed his suspicion. "Stop cutting! I repeat, stop whatever you're doing right now!" he shouted into his radio.

Instantly Lorne stopped struggling and went limp again. Beckett shoved Sheppard out of the way and reached for Lorne's neck. Before he could get there, though, the man had already started to lift his head. As Beckett tried to get his attention, the life just seemed to drain out of the man. Gently Beckett lifted his head up by the chin. By this point Lorne was struggling even to open his eyes.

"Sheppard, what's going on?" McKay's voice came over the radio.

Moving away from the two, Sheppard said, "Whatever you were just doing, it's vibrating the rod in Lorne's chest. Is there any way around it, Rodney?"

"Oh God," McKay said, clearly imagining the horror for himself. "Checking."

~o~o~o~

Lorne, clearly in too much pain to think anymore, was barely responsive now. Beckett could see him struggling to focus his eyes, struggling to keep his head up, struggling to breathe. The man was dying in front of him, and there was virtually nothing he could do. Snatching up the scanner, he ran it around the Major, his lips thinning with the results. Seeing the lines of pain and tension around the Major's sickeningly pale face, Beckett forced a smile.

"You're going to be fine, son," Carson tried to reassure.

Lorne's eyes flicked to where Sheppard was on his radio a few feet away. Knowing he wouldn't be overheard now that the CCA was off, he focused on Beckett. "Doc, I need you to do me a favor. On my bedside table is an envelope—"

"We're going to get you out of here," Beckett said.

Lorne's smile behind the oxygen mask along with those expressive blue eyes told Beckett what he thought of that. "Of course, you are," Evan said almost too softly to hear.

Carson struggled to keep what he hoped was a grin and not a grimace on his face. "Oh, so you're asking me to deliver love letters, then, are ye?"

"Just make sure Sheppard gets it, if I don't make it out of here alive. He'll know what to do."

Beckett dropped the grin. Glaring, he leaned forward until his face was inches from Lorne's. "You're getting out of here. Alive. Understand? A little time in the hospital wing, and you'll be good as new."

"Yes, sir," Lorne said, seeming more out of reflex than any conscious response now that he'd said what he needed.

"What did I tell you about that formality stuff, Evan?" Sheppard said coming back over and squatting next to the hole. None of them missed the stressing of the former Major's first name. "I'm not sure what you did, but quit pissing off Carson before he brings out the really big needles."

"I'll take the big needles right about now," Lorne slurred slightly, his eyes glazed and distant.

"Still coherent enough to be cheeky and piss off a doctor. Yep, you're going to be just fine," Sheppard said, now eyeballing something behind Lorne's seat.

"I'm sorry, Evan," Carson said the frustration clear on his face. "Anything I give you for the pain could further depress your respiratory system."

"I know, Doc. It's okay."

Like hell it is, Carson thought to himself, looking at the scanner results again. The Major had lost a lot of blood. He had hoped that the rod was acting like a cork. Amazingly no major arteries had been damaged by the half-inch thick rod. But blood had still been seeping out the back where the wound was somehow considerably bigger. Carson could only guess this was a result of having been jostled during the multiple impacts with the ground.

The downside was that the entire top lobe of the Major's right lung had been shredded both by the metal rod and the rib it had shattered. The bone shards had practically exploded into the soft tissues. A lobectomy was likely going to be required. Catching himself before he could sigh, he hoped the Major had been serious about resigning, because this likely would not bode well for his career in the military.

"That good, huh, Doc?" Lorne practically whispered, all strength seeming to have drained right out of him.

Cursing himself for his inability to better control his expressions, Carson did sigh, this time. He opened his mouth to say something but caught Sheppard glaring at him and shaking his head from behind Lorne. Swallowing what he was about to say, he came up with a different idea. "You're going to be on medical leave for a minimum two months. I hope you have plenty of painting supplies."

Lorne smiled, his dull blue eyes showing grim amusement. "Is that so?"

"This is Carson we're talking about. He can't lie," Sheppard said, clearly distracted as he spotted something.

Lying flat with his arms extended over the hole behind the seat, Sheppard reached down. When his hand brushed something causing a grunt of pain from Lorne, he smiled.

"Found it," he called.

"I can bloody well see that!" Carson snapped holding the Evan's head up and trying to get him to focus.

"Sorry, Evan," he apologized, patting the man's left shoulder gently. "You're not going to like this, but I've got an idea."

Somewhat recovered from the unexpected burst of pain, Evan blinked several times to clear his vision. "John...now that you're not my CO I can tell you: Don't do that again, or I'll kick your ass," Lorne threatened, half-heartedly.

"Well, suck it up, cause I found a way to get you out of here."

"Let me guess, cut from behind the seat?" Lorne asked, his head falling back to try to see Sheppard's grim expression. For a moment Evan's pale face pinched in fear. Recovering himself, he gave the Colonel a half-grin. "Let's make a deal, then."

"You're not exactly in a bargaining position, here," Sheppard replied, not liking where this was going.

"Resignation or disciplinary hearing? Either one is a lot of paperwork. And I know how much you just love your paperwork."

"What are you getting at?"

"Which one do you want?"

"Either, as long as you're alive for me to kick your ass afterward," Sheppard answered.

Lorne's lips twitched into an almost smile, clearly not believing it.

"Both require paperwork and may require me to break in another XO. Besides, I figure cutting you out of here is going to be punishment enough."

Lorne smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Sheppard's expression got serious as he squeezed Evan's shoulder again. "You did good, Major. Just hang in there. We'll get you out of here, and then we can talk about the rest."

"Thank you."

"Now shut up and let me get to work. Doc, I need you to help me in the Jumper for a minute."

For a moment Carson looked like he was going to argue, but something in the Colonel's expression change his mind. With a worried look at Lorne, he nodded. Once they were out of hearing range, Sheppard started with the one question he didn't want to ask. "Is he going to make it if we get him out of here?"

Carson sighed heavily. "Barring complications after surgery, he should recover in two to six months."

"But he will recover?"

"Yes."

Sheppard finally allowed himself to sigh in relief where Evan couldn't see it. "Good. We're going to have to pull him up and out. Can we do that without aggravating the wound?"

Carson thought about this for a second. "If you cut the bar behind the seat as close as possible and we shift him and the bar forward enough to free him from the seat, yes. But getting him out of the hole may require a sling."

Sheppard nodded, already planning this out. "Okay, I'm going to get your team and mine up here, then. Is there anything you can give him to, you know, ease the pain?"

Beckett scrubbed his face with his hands. "I wish there were, but a stimulant would increase his heart rate and the bleeding. It's nothing short of a miracle there are no damaged arteries, but he's still lost a dangerous amount of blood. A depressant would also affect his respiration and possibly put him to sleep. I can't risk either one until I have him on a gurney at the very least."

"Damn," Sheppard muttered, running a hand through his hair. His pained expression told Carson exactly how he felt about what he was planning on doing to the Major.

"It's not your fault."

Apparently it was the wrong thing to say. Sheppard's expression twisted angrily for a moment, but all he said was, "I know."

~o~o~o~

Twenty minutes later Sheppard was in place with the torch, half his upper body hanging down into the hold with McKay sitting on his legs to keep him from going over the side. Again Beckett sat with his legs dangling over the edge of the hole facing Lorne. By this point Lorne's pained, pale expression had gone flat behind the oxygen mask. Beckett knew it was all the man could do not to let his fear show; because the terror was clear behind those glazed blue eyes. Though Sheppard had the torch fired up, it was several seconds before he actually started cutting. For a moment it almost seemed he would change his mind.

Sheppard, hanging over the edge into the darkness acted as if he needed a moment to adjust the tube coming from the torch as his eyes adjusted. He could clearly see the rod sticking through the back of the pilot's chair, but was still wracking his brain for a solution. At this point he was grasping at anything that flitted across his mind. But this was it. There was no other way to get the man out of this predicament without likely killing him. And, even this was pretty damn iffy when you took into account that too much jostling of the rod was just going to keep tearing a bigger and bigger hole.

Cursing the Major thoroughly in his mind in every language he could ever recall having heard, he clenched his jaws and set the torch to cutting. He had the torch almost right up against the back of the seat hoping that the heat wouldn't have time to go up through the rod and into Lorne's back. Also, if he moved fast enough, he might just be able to minimize the pain.

Up front Lorne was trembling. He'd stopped even attempting to breathe as the pain set in. The moment Sheppard had touched the rod, he'd felt the movement in his chest. No matter how quick or careful the Colonel was, there was no mitigating the tearing sensation in his chest. For the moment, Lorne's entire existence narrowed to that one agonizing sensation. He knew if he could have taken a breath, he would have been screaming. Somewhere far away a pair of hands braced his shoulders, pushing him back against the seat. Closing his eyes against the pain did nothing. Casting about, trying to find something—anything—to focus on besides the pain and the blackness encroaching on the edges of his vision he looked around him.

A pair of hard green eyes met his. He wasn't even sure anymore who they belonged to; and Lorne didn't care, either. It was something to focus on. He could see the lips in that grim face moving. Somewhere else he could hear voices. He knew there was more than one. But he couldn't make sense of anything that was being said. All that mattered was the pain and blinking away the darkness trying to take him away with it.

Then his chest shattered.

~o~o~o~

Doctor Beckett watched helplessly as Major Lorne's face transformed from deadly determination to agonized shock at the pain Colonel Sheppard was causing with the cutting torch. At first it seemed like Lorne was gasping and even trying to scream. But it was clear the pain was even beyond that for him. After a few seconds Lorne began trembling. According to the Ancient scanner every vital sign had gone berserk. Every muscle in his body was tensed to trembling and was even beginning to spasm. As Lorne's shoulders began to come away from the seat as if he was going to try to pull away from the pain, Beckett's own heart lurched. That kind of movement now could kill him.

Suddenly Ronon was there. The damn man knew better than to be out of the back of the Jumper Beckett had parked him in. But, as ever, it didn't stop him. They all knew he wasn't one to sit around if there was anything of use he could contribute. The man would be on his death bed offering to fight someone. Still, in this one case, Beckett could have hugged the man for his defiance. Already watching what was happening, Ronon had shoved Beckett aside and laid himself flat so he could brace the Major's shoulders against the back of the seat.

When Lorne's eyes had opened and fixed on Ronon's, it almost seemed as if the Major was somewhere else entirely. As Ronon began to speak, however, it became clear he was not so far gone as they thought.

"Breathe, or it's only going to get worse," Ronon instructed, as if he knew something about this. Then again, maybe he did.

Lorne blinked.

"The pain is a part of you. Just like an arm or a leg," Ronon continued. "Focus on it. Breathe through it."

Lorne's trembling continued, but it seemed as if maybe he had gasped out and back in a little.

"Don't push it away. Don't ignore it. Breathe in the pain."

Behind the oxygen mask Lorne's lips parted. Whether it was to breathe or say something, Beckett had no idea. But so long as Ronon was giving the man something to focus on, he was going to let it be.

Suddenly the rod was free. Lorne's head snapped backward in one final spasm of pain before he became dead weight. The heavier end of the rod sticking out of Lorne's chest tilted just enough to make Ronon release Lorne's right shoulder and catch it. By then it was already too late. Lorne was unconscious, and Beckett doubted they would get him back any time soon. Though this could cause complications, after what he'd seen, he was almost glad. For now, they just had to focus on getting him out of here and into the Jumper…rod and all.

Turning off the torch, Sheppard hollered for McKay to haul him up. Seeing what was going on once he was above the rim again, his expression became pinched with worry, but he said nothing. Turning to the next phase of the plan, he got on the other side of Lorne while Ronon shifted to where he could use his good arm. With Beckett in the center, they slowly moved Lorne's limp form forward until the six inches or so of rod sticking out of his back was exposed. That's when Beckett set to work. While they struggled against straining, protesting muscles at the awkward positions, Ronon and Sheppard watched while Beckett practically emptied his medical kit securing the rod in a stable position. The goal was to wrap it and Major Lorne well enough to keep the rod immobile while they hefted Lorne out of there in a sling. Already the engineers were setting up the tripod above them as Beckett worked.

One of Beckett's assistants sat behind the chair with his legs dangling over the edge watching the Ancient, hand-held scanner. His expression was no less worried as he continued to watch the readings. Becket was so focused on his work, he couldn't pay attention to the Major's condition and relied on the man to keep him updated on changes. Now they were in a race. They all knew that Lorne's condition was deteriorating rapidly, and it was only a matter of time before he would crash. If he did, from where they were at now, there wasn't a damn thing they could do for him.

Finally they managed to get a sling around and underneath Lorne's limp form. But he was not so unconscious as they would have liked to believe. More than once Beckett heard what he could only describe as a whimper as they moved him up and out of the hole and then over to a gurney. Though he doubted anyone else was close enough to hear it, Beckett knew the whimpers continued intermittently until they were able to sit the gurney level and stable in the back of the Jumper. Sitting on the bench facing the Major laid out on his side with the rod still protruding from his back through his front, Beckett silently begged the man to just hold on for a few more minutes.

~o~o~o~

Three days later in more misery than he could ever remember having suffered, Major Lorne sat propped up in his bed barely conscious surrounded by tubes, wires, equipment, and people. Though the ventilator had been removed, his throat was still too raw and sore to speak. So, of course, Sheppard just had to take advantage of the situation.

"Ah, there he is," Colonel Sheppard said, catching sight of the slitted eyes. "The epic pain in the ass awakens. Did you guys know, he actually told me he was expendable?"

"Sir?" Keane asked incredulously.

Now Lorne's eyes widened enough to be considered actually open. Seeing the rest of his team and Sheppard, he knew this was so not good. Even in his drug-hazed mind, this could not be good.

"Yeah, crazy, huh?" Turning to Lorne with a wicked gleam in his eyes, he grinned at the poor man in the bed just lying there helplessly. "So I guess we're going to just have to show him how not expendable he is, aren't we?"

"Yes, sir," the three of them replied together with too much enthusiasm for Lorne's state of mind.

"Any ideas, Lieutenants?"

Cayton, Keane, and Shingleton all shared glances that were an entire conversation in themselves; which Sheppard was well aware.

"Oh, I'm sure we'll think of a few things, sir," Cayton finally said for all of them, their mischievous smiles fixed firmly in place.

"I'm sure you will. Then you best get to it," Sheppard said, leaning against the bed.

"Yes, sir!"

Their eagerness to leave the Major to the Colonel's mercies was evident in just how fast they managed to vacate the infirmary. Turning around, Sheppard dropped his smile. His whole demeanor serious now, he contemplated his XO.

"I wasn't joking when I called you an epic pain in the ass. You do realize that the longer we work together, the more of my bad habits you seem to pick up, right?"

Knowing he wasn't entirely out of trouble, but clearly Sheppard wasn't going to torture him too much in his current condition, Lorne twitched his lips in an approximation of a smile.

"Laugh it up, Major," Sheppard told him, clearly bordering on pissed now. "You're in for a long recovery. And I've got half a mind to make you a desk jockey instead of a jet jock. And that's if you can pass your physical after rehab. I'm not even going to bother throwing in disciplinary actions, because we've had that discussion already. But you are not, nor ever will be, expendable. Not to me, and not to this expedition. Am I clear, Major Lorne?"

"Yes, sir," Lorne whispered.

Sheppard grunted, not certain if the drugged up SiC was being sincere or facetious. Either way, he knew he'd gotten his point across. "That being said, thank you, Evan. I know you'd do that for anyone you felt responsible for, but I'd really rather not have to tell your mother and sister that you got splattered all over the face of a planet covering my ass. Besides, next time it's clearly my turn, got it?"

Lorne nodded slightly, his eyelids dropping quickly as he struggled against sleep.

"Hey, don't nod off just yet. There's—"

"Colonel Sheppard! I warned you that if you didn't get out of my infirmary and get some real sleep, I was going to have you sedated, and I meant it," Doctor Beckett growled, catching sight of the man standing beside Lorne's bed.

Being so drugged up as to feel slow and dull-witted, even Lorne couldn't miss the grimace that crossed his CO's features as Beckett came up behind him.

"And ye're bothering my patient, too!" he added, seeing Lorne awake. "Out with ye!"

"Aw, come on, Carson. I was just telling the Major how worried we all were. Wasn't I, Lorne?"

Not feeling up to talking and not able to stop himself from taking advantage of the moment, Lorne glanced at Beckett and then very deliberately rolled his eyes. Beckett just barely covered a smile as Sheppard gave a very irked grunt of disapproval.

"I see," Beckett said turning his attention back to the Colonel. "Since you're worried about him so very much that you want to share a bed next to him, I'll be more than happy to oblige. Shall I call Ronon to hold you down now or after I've got you restrained?"

Lorne could tell by the look of the Colonel he probably hadn't slept in quite some time. But, then again, he was so used to seeing Sheppard on the edge of exhaustion, it probably just hadn't registered through the drug haze until now. Nonetheless, Beckett certainly didn't sound like he was joking anymore.

"Fine, I was just leaving," Sheppard finally gave in with a scowl. "You just get the Major back on his feet as quickly as possible. I still owe him an ass kicking for this one."

"Why certainly, Colonel. I'll have him ready for you in a few months. In the meantime, I'm sure Ronon will be happy to keep you company."

"Huh," Sheppard grunted, turning to leave.

Only once he was well out of earshot did Beckett shake his head in bemusement before turning his attention to his patient. Lorne, struggling to keep his eyes open through the entire exchange barely managed to focus them on Beckett.

"You probably won't remember this later, but I'll let you know that man has not left your bedside since we brought you out of the recovery room. He wasn't going anywhere until you woke up. Now that you are awake, Major, I expect you to recover quickly. We'll get into details later. For now, rest. And if you see him in here when you wake up again, hit the call button so I can have him tied to a bed and sedated until you're able to move about again."

Quirking a grin in response to Beckett's half-joking statement, Lorne let himself drift off again.


	8. No One Left Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You don't leave people in the hands of the enemy. And the fact that we are having this conversation in private tells me that you know damn well that it's wrong, and it will totally undermine your leadership…Because it's the right thing to do. Why? Because it is." –Major John Sheppard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to all my Lorne readers in advance. But we've been arguing. Don't worry. Lorne and I have sorted out our differences over a couple of multi-chaps, now that he realizes just how easily I could be rid of him. You should be seeing the others shortly.
> 
> Merry Christmas!

Minutes. That was all they had now.

Sheppard had set the explosives knowing it was just barely enough time for the four of them to get to the dart bay. It wasn't even enough to destroy the ship. But it was enough to cripple it. He cursed the circumstances that had led them all here. How many teams had he lost now? He still didn't know if Major Lorne and his team were still alive. But he'd put out the word on the radio to get out any way they could. There was no more time. The hive ship was going to reach Atlantis any minute now.

"Come on! Hurry it up!" he shouted to McKay, guiding them through the murky organic corridors as he watched their six.

"Colonel!"

The shout from a nearby wall stopped him in his tracks. "Hold!" he called to his team, turning to that voice. "Major!"

Six feet away, just behind them, Sheppard could make out the face of his XO. The man was trapped in the wall somehow. His pale, pinched expression spoke volumes about the pain he was in.

"Sir, the rest of my team…"

"I'm sorry, Major," Sheppard told him looking for a way to cut him out of the wall.

"Colonel, there's no time!" Teyla reminded.

"What's happening?" Lorne asked, catching on.

"We've set explosives to cripple the ship before they figure out we're…free," Sheppard explained with a grunt as he and Ronon worked to cut the Major loose.

"How long?"

"There's no time!" Rodney shouted in a near panic.

"Damn!" Sheppard cursed, hacking at the wall with his knife. "Then get over here and help, Rodney!"

"No, sir!" Lorne told him vehemently. "Get out of here."

"I thought you already knew. We don't leave—"

"My legs are broken."

"Damn it!" Sheppard raged, still hacking refusing to give up.

"I'm sorry, sir. But you have to go. Go on, get out of here."

"We don't leave our people behind, Major!" Sheppard shouted, still not stopping.

"Then don't, John."

Sensing something in Lorne's too calm voice made Sheppard freeze, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. Those three words had been spoken softly enough he didn't think anyone else had heard them; but Ronon had stopped, too, stepping back. Looking into those pale blue eyes now set in an expression of determination, Sheppard felt his blood run cold. Lorne nodded the P90 still clipped to the Colonel's vest.

"Multiple shots to the head would ensure even if they manage to bring me back, they'll get nothing useful," Lorne told him.

"No."

"Sir, you have to get out of here, now!" Lorne reminded angrily, losing his composure as the alarms finally sounded.

Sheppard shook his head looking as if he was about to go back to hacking at the wall.

"Damn it, Colonel! I'm only asking for the same courtesy you gave Colonel Sumner," now Lorne was clearly angry.

"Evan…"

"Sheppard, they're coming!" Rodney shouted.

They could all hear the approach of the wraith soldiers.

"Now, Sheppard! You have to go, now!" Lorne shouted.

Not able to think anymore, he did the one thing he could for his friend and XO. A quick burst of three shots to the forehead and Lorne was gone. Feeling sick but knowing he still had a responsibility to the rest of his team, he turned and continued their interrupted run toward the dart bay.

~o~o~o~

Sheppard woke in his bed, sitting bolt upright in the darkness. Shaking and covered in sweat, he felt his heart racing as if he were still running in those organic corridors.

"Fuck…" he whispered to the night, struggling to slow his racing heart.

With trembling hands he scrubbed his face. How many more? How many more times would he have that dream? How many more times would he have to live through that? Sumner, Teyla, Ronon, Rodney, Ford, Lorne, even Zalenka and a half a dozen of his former lovers. How many more times would he have to dream about killing someone so they could avoid a worse fate?

His breathing finally slowing, Sheppard reached into the bedside table with trembling hands. There were few things he kept close to him. Those dog tags were among them. He didn't need to turn the light on to know what they said. They'd been burned into his memory for years now. And, if this nightmare was any indication, he would never forget.

.

Sumner

Marshall B.

648-92-6301 AF

O Negative

No Preference

.

Somehow he'd forgotten them back on Atlantis when they first returned to Earth. Upon returning to Atlantis, he'd decided to keep them. Painful as the memory was, tormenting as the reoccurring nightmare was, it was right. To him it was only right that he never forget. He knew the day he forgot how painful it was to pull that trigger was the day he should quit, for good.

For a while he sat in the darkness, remembering. The pain of the actual memory mingling with the ghosts of all the nightmares he'd had since that day washing over him, he closed his eyes. Only when his heart had slowed and his hands were steady again did he return those tags to his drawer. As always, the knowledge that he'd done right in his life, no matter the cost to himself, eventually led to dreamless and peaceful sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it would appear McKay and Sheppard are getting jealous at all the attention Lorne is getting. They're demanding more. But I figured this little tidbit would be something to appease them so I could get some sleep tonight.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> UPDATE: Okay, so after I wrote this and am sitting here re-reading it, I'm getting the distinct feeling I've read this before, or something very similar. Now, it might be because this idea is from something else I was working on many, many years ago now. Maybe something about McKay punching Sheppard. But, after hours and hours spent searching, I can't find it to check. If anyone out there recognizes this as being similar to someone else's please, please, please, msg me and I'll pull it down.
> 
> Thanks!

Too distracted anymore to focus on what he was looking at on the laptop right in his face, McKay finally admitted defeat. Unthinkingly he slammed his fist down on the metal tabletop, making everyone else in the room jump. Not one set of eyes in the room turned to him, though. They knew better, at this point. His mood had been foul enough to dish out the kind of tongue lashings usually reserved only for the most truly incompetent of subordinates. He'd been worse than a bear with a sore tooth ever since Colonel Sheppard had returned from M62-416 with two badly injured scientists.

Ignoring the reactions—or lack thereof—in the lab around him, McKay dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. Ever since he'd seen the chemical burns across their faces and bodies, he hadn't been able to get it out of his mind. Both Doctor Rosales and Doctor Wintringham were young, new. Sheppard was supposed to be taking them out on the equivalent of a training mission to get them used to off-world procedures. It was a routine exploration of some ancient ruins. Nothing special, no power to the buildings, nothing interesting. Just a quick in and out that turned into a never-ending nightmare for the two scientists. Once the trap was triggered, they couldn't find a way out, or a way to stop it. The acidic vapor had eaten away at their exposed flesh as fast as it had their clothes.

McKay had been there when they brought the bodies back through the gate. They were still alive against all odds. But what was left wasn't even really recognizable anymore. Their faces…

Groaning at the memory, McKay dug the heels of his hands deeper, until all he could see behind his closed eyelids was bursts of color. Even then, it wasn't enough. Nothing would ever be enough. He knew till the day he died he would have nightmares about them. And he knew the guilt would never go away.

For the second time he slammed his fist on the table, this time earning irritated looks. But, at least, this time the pain brought him out of the memories and back to the present. He was so tired it was hard to focus; but he certainly did now as he caught sight of the blood. Apparently this time he'd slammed his fist down on a plastic pen hard enough to shatter it and a few of the pieces were sticking out of his skin, blood oozing around the edges.

Mumbling curses he'd heard Sheppard use on more than one occasion, McKay slammed his laptop closed and headed out of the lab. He wasn't even sure where he was going. He knew he should sleep. Hell, he couldn't even remember the last time he'd eaten. He also knew he wasn't going to get anything done right now. Not with his head wrapped up and wound up the way it was. But he had no clue where he was going to go or what he was going to do, either.

Walking blindly down the corridors, picking the pieces of plastic out of the side of his right hand, he let his mind wander. Inevitably, it led back to where it started, almost a month ago, now.

~o~o~o~

McKay caught sight of Sheppard headed down the busy corridor. He could tell the moment Sheppard had caught sight of him, as the man had suddenly changed direction practically in mid-stride. It was no more than he expected. And, at this point, it was a lot better than he had any right to hope for. At least Sheppard hadn't shot him, yet; even if McKay felt like that's the least of what he deserved.

"Oh, Colonel. Colonel!" he called, jogging to catch up. "I've been looking all over for you."

"I heard," Sheppard replied bluntly.

McKay almost wished he'd taken the cowardly approach this time as well and gone into hiding when Sheppard turned around and crossed his arms as if trying to convince himself not to lay Rodney out on the floor right there. Sheppard being pissed off he could deal with. Sheppard being disappointed enough to lash out...he couldn't even manage to meet the Colonel's eyes as he summoned his courage to continue.

"Yeah, I suppose I deserve that," McKay admitted with a sigh. "Look, I just…um…I wanted to apologize about what happened. I was wrong. I'm sorry."

When Sheppard continued to glare with no visible or verbal reaction, McKay decided to push it further. He wasn't sure anymore if he was wanting Sheppard to lash out or not. He just felt the need to get this over with, whatever the result. "And I wanted to assure you that I intend on being right again. About everything, effective immediately."

When Sheppard cocked his head in response but still said nothing and very deliberately kept his arms crossed, Rodney sighed again. "That was a joke."

"Good one," Sheppard finally said, the venom clear in his voice, if not his expression.

Only once he'd turned to enter the transporter and was out of arm's reach of McKay did Sheppard finally uncross his arms.

His heart still racing, McKay stepped closer. "I've already apologized to Elizabeth," Sheppard left his arms swinging at his side, appearing almost disappointed that McKay hadn't stepped closer. "And Radek and…And I thanked Colonel Caldwell for caring enough to spy on the experiment from orbit. Sent him a nice little email, actually."

Now the Colonel's expression was openly disgusted as he continued to listen to the scientist's meaningless crap attempts to make himself feel better.

"But I save you till last 'cause…um…Honestly, I would…," McKay visibly summoned the last of his courage, wishing his heart wasn't so damn scared of what would come next. "I would hate to think that recent events might have permanently dimmed your faith in my abilities."

Silently he cursed himself. Even now he couldn't bring himself to admit they were friends. Even now, under these circumstances he was too much of a coward to admit that what he really wanted was to affirm Sheppard wasn't going to kick him to the curb for what had happened.

"Or your trust," McKay continued, not able to make eye contact at this point. "At the very least, I hope I can…I can earn that back."

Now Sheppard, though looking less pissed, let the disappointment show through completely. And McKay wished more than ever that the Colonel would lash out, verbally or physically; because that disappointment in those green eyes hurt more than the anger. He knew he'd screwed up. And there was no way to fix it. Again he cursed himself silently.

"That may take a while," Sheppard finally said.

"I see," McKay replied, not really seeing any hope for salvaging their friendship at this point, and knowing he didn't really deserve it, either.

"But, I'm sure you can do it, if you really, really try," Sheppard added after a second, with a bit of smirk as he tapped a location on the transporter.

Still not feeling it, McKay accepted it. Maybe it was nothing. But at least for now, there seemed to be at least some small chance that he might one day repair their friendship. For now, he just wanted to go hide in his lab and never come out again.

~o~o~o~

McKay had been so wrapped up in the memory he hadn't even realized where he was headed until now. Standing outside of Beckett's office, he very nearly turned around and fled. He still hadn't been able to visit the two scientists, knowing what he knew.

"Rodney? Are you—"

Beckett's voice right behind him startled him into jumping nearly out of his skin. Still holding his bloodied hand, he spun around making Beckett cut off whatever he was about to say.

"Sorry, Carson, it's just…um…I hurt my hand," he finally said, feeling like an idiot for being here in the first place.

Beckett gave McKay an exasperated look, knowing the scientist wouldn't come all the way back to his office just for an injury. But, knowing the man as he did, taking him back out for a band aid was just going to make things worse. With a gentle hand on his arm, Beckett steered McKay into the office.

"What did you do to your hand?" Beckett asked, moving some stuff off his chair so McKay could sit.

"You know what? Never mind, it's nothing," McKay said, very nearly running out of the tiny office except for the fact that Beckett was blocking his way.

Beckett's eyebrows shot up nearly into his hairline. Now he knew something was wrong. "Sit down, Rodney. Let me see your hand."

Looking both trapped and defeated, McKay sat down staring at the floor as he offered up his hand, mumbling something about a scratch and not worth his time and…

"Are ye serious?" Beckett said, more than a little surprised as he pulled on gloves. "This may need a stitch or two. What did ye do, Rodney?"

"I don't know," he said cheeks flaming as he stared everywhere but at the doctor in front of him.

"What's wrong, son?" Beckett finally asked, cleaning the wound. The lack of reaction from his friend was downright unsettling. "Are ye feeling alright?"

"What? Hm? Yes, yes, I'm…fine."

"I highly doubt that," Beckett said, relieved it wasn't as bad as it initially appeared. "Well, no sutures needed, at least."

McKay nodded, still obviously miles away from the current situation. Sensing something seriously wrong behind those distant blue eyes, Beckett wondered again what had really brought his friend here. But he also knew pushing wasn't going to get anywhere with Rodney if he didn't want to talk.

"How are they?" he finally asked softly staring at the hand Beckett was bandaging and nowhere else.

So that's what it is, Beckett thought to himself, thinking he was finally catching on.

"I'm sorry, Rodney. There's not much to report since yesterday. They're alive, for now."

His eyes and voice distant now, McKay said, "It's not right."

"What do you mean?"

Suddenly coming back to the present with a violent start, McKay realized his hand was bandaged. He really should get out of there. He still wasn't even entirely sure why he was here in the first place. His head was a mess, he was a mess, and this whole damned situation was a mess. Launching himself out of the chair, but still not able to get out because of Beckett blocking the door, he turned away.

"I mean, it's not fair," he finally said. "They didn't train for this. They didn't spend months studying Ancient technology. I did."

Now clearly irritated, Beckett glared at the hunched back of his friend. "So that's what this is about. It's all about Doctor Rodney McKay—"

"You're damn right it is!" McKay shouted, turning around, his blue eyes blazing. "If it wasn't for me, they wouldn't be in there! They wouldn't have…Don't you get it, Carson? I screwed up at Doranda and now Sheppard doesn't trust me! If I hadn't broken his trust, he wouldn't have taken them instead of me."

Crossing his arms at this little tirade Beckett asked, "And what? You're saying you could have stopped it?"

"Yes! No! I don't know. But that's not the point," McKay said, rubbing his forehead with a shaking hand as he turned away again, inspecting the wall of papers in front of him. "I'm saying…That it should have been me. At least no one else had to get hurt. That should be me in there, Carson. Not them."

His eyes nearly bugging out of his head, Beckett wondered just what his friend was on. "Would you listen to yourself, Rodney? You—"

"How many, Carson?" McKay asked, almost too softly for Beckett to hear.

"What?"

Turning around McKay's tired blue eyes met Beckett's with a haunted expression, and the doctor almost wished they weren't so clear and expressive right now. "Gall, Abrams, Johnson, Wagner, Peterson, Dumais, Hays, Groden, Lindstrom, Collins," he listed as Beckett's eyes widened in understanding. "How many more are going to pay for my mistakes? How many more have to die?"

Knowing where this was coming from and from whom, it nearly broke Beckett's heart. Underneath that ego was more guilt than most men could imagine. And there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. "When was the last time you slept, Rodney? Or ate? You look terrible. Here, sit down. I'll—"

Irritation replacing the haunted look, McKay shook his head. As Beckett took him by the arm trying to lead him back to the chair, the scientist dodged it, making a clean break for the door.

"I have to get back to work."

"Rodney! Rodney!" Beckett called a couple of times to the man's retreating back.

Giving up, he heaved a sigh, scrubbing his face with his hands. If he hadn't known the man as well as he did, he'd have thought McKay was on the verge of a break. He had no idea what had precipitated the split between the scientist and the Colonel, but it might be time to talk to Sheppard.

~o~o~o~

Not six feet away, just around the corner from Beckett's office, Sheppard held his breath as he watched McKay walk away, and Beckett turning back to his office. That had been close. But when he'd come to check on Rosales and Wintringham he'd overheard McKay's shouting.

"Don't you get it Carson? I screwed up at Doranda, and now Sheppard doesn't trust me!"

Approaching with as much noise as a shadow, he'd overheard the rest of the conversation. At first he'd wanted to just walk away. But hearing the clear suffering his…friend's?…voice, he found he couldn't. Seeing he was clear, Sheppard turned to go back the way he'd come.

Briefly he considered his most recent thoughts. He wasn't even certain he considered McKay a friend. Not anymore, anyway. Hell, he wasn't sure when it was Rodney had crossed the line from professional co-worker to friend in the first place. But he had known for certain they were friends by the end of the "Doranda Debacle", as he'd come to call it. And that he only knew because he made damn certain to close that door in a hurry, and hard. Sure, the guy had sounded so pathetic with his apology he'd had to give him some hope. But, realistically, Sheppard didn't want anything to do with the egotistical, loud-mouthed, selfish…courageous, foolhardy…

Damn, damn, damn, Sheppard cut himself off.

Even when he tried to convince himself he hated the guy he couldn't. This whole damn thing was a mess. But maybe McKay had actually learned his lesson. By the sounds of what he'd overheard, it seemed possible; which Sheppard was still trying to wrap his brain around.

Finding himself standing on a balcony watching the sun set, Sheppard turned these thoughts around in his head. He wasn't one to trust people, in the first place. He had trusted McKay who had broken that trust. That was usually a one-way ticket out of Sheppard's life for good. But, maybe he'd been a little too hard on the guy. Running a hand through his hair, the Colonel made up his mind.

It was time to corner the annoying scientist.


	10. Final Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a decorated general decides to retire...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First I wanted to thank everyone that's taken the time to read all the SGA stuff I've posted. And a very special thank you to the reviewers. I appreciate any feedback anyone has to offer. The overwhelming positive has given me a ton of inspiration to keep going.
> 
> Sorry for being so quiet, lately. But a lot of the stuff I've posted, I already had written over the last couple of months. Twice in the past in other fandoms I've made the mistake of posting before something was finished, causing it to die out prematurely; and I won't make that mistake a third time. Also, there's been a bit of a crunch on time as work stuff gets rolling again. Unfortunately I'm no longer a peon and don't have as much time on my hands as I once did.
> 
> I'm working on a multi-chap that started with a dozen or so chapters. And now looks like it might rival Factus Humana before it's done. Unfortunately Lorne and I have been arguing over this one for months. I don't like it at all, but he loves the idea and keeps putting in more stuff. In other words, it's consuming most of my time and is nowhere near ready. In the meantime, I'm still working on snippets and tidbits like this one.
> 
> Enjoy!

Heaving a sigh, Brigadier General John Sheppard stepped out of the shower just barely suppressing a groan. He knew this was likely to be the last truly hot shower he would ever have; and his battered, scarred body thanked him. In his twenty plus years in Atlantis he'd seen just about everything. And his body was a roadmap of scars to prove it. For all their advancements in technology, nothing could heal the past.

Toweling off, he glanced around his near-empty quarters. It had been a long, and satisfying career. He was proud of what he'd accomplished in his life, and felt no qualms about leaving it all behind in the hands of younger, more energetic people. The city was a thriving hub of activity, now. Some days the traffic alone made it feel like the center of the Pegasus Galaxy. He'd never been one to give in to nostalgia, though, and didn't intend to do so now.

Forcing his aching knees to bend, Sheppard managed to sit down on his bed without falling; though the movement did elicit an audible groan this time. His body seemed to be protesting every action he'd ever taken. Today was probably the worst day of aches he'd felt in a while. It was almost as if his body was ensuring he wasn't going to second-guess his decision to retire.

But, it was a done deal. There was no going back, now. He'd signed the papers and sent them off to Earth a while ago. Today the torch had been passed to a proud and eager Colonel Lorne. The quiet goodbye were spoken in the confines of Sheppard's former office over a shot of bourbon. He'd already boxed up his few possessions and sent them to back to Earth with a letter to his brother. Most of the rest of the city knew, too; but had said their own farewells in quiet smiles and handshakes. He could not even verbally express how glad he was that his passing into retirement was being met with little fanfare. He hated people making a scene or a fuss.

As he relaxed back onto his bed for a moment, Sheppard closed his eyes to say one last goodbye to his home, Atlantis. He could sense the city around him. It was almost alive to him. She'd been good to him, and he'd protected her fiercely in return. But it was time to let go. Reaching out, he let his mind wander the corridors, peruse the endless lines of code, and just take in the general sense of wellness the city possessed at being so heavily populated and trafficked. The city was happy and safe, and that was enough for him.

With a longer, more drawn-out groan, Sheppard forced himself upright. It was time to go.

~o~o~o~

With a smirk Colonel Lorne turned around in the pilot's seat of the Jumper.

"I thought we already said goodbye," Sheppard grunted as he closed the rear hatch of the Jumper.

"We did, but someone's gotta bring back the Jumper. Might as well be me."

"Fine. But this is my last flight, so I'm going semi-traditional."

"So I heard," Lorne replied with a genuine smile, his blue eyes bright.

As Lorne moved to the back of the Jumper, out of sight of the viewscreen, his smile stayed in place. He was genuinely happy to see his long-time friend and commanding officer retiring. He'd known the General had been struggling for some time, even with all the medical technology. His body had decided it was done a while ago, but he'd been too stubborn to admit it. He just hoped half of what he'd heard about his friend's plans was true, so Sheppard could rest easy.

Sheppard managed to bite his lip enough not to groan audibly as he forced his badly swollen knees and hips to bend enough to get into the pilot's seat. As was tradition in the Air Force, he was going to have his final flight. Only, no one was going to see him; which wasn't so traditional, but it was how Sheppard wanted it. Opening the doors from the Jumper Bay to the beautiful, clear blue sky Sheppard nearly sighed with relief. It was almost over, now.

A moment later his lips thinned and he turned what had once been considered a lethal glare on his now former second in command sitting quietly in the back of the Jumper.

Lorne chuckled, explaining, "They all wanted to say goodbye, sir. Besides, it's traditional to have your family watch your final flight. So make it good, John."

Every balcony, every window, every pier was crammed with people. It seemed the entire city and then some had come to watch Sheppard's last flight. Though he'd never admit it, he was touched. Instead, he gave a pleased grunt and a wicked grin as he turned back toward the controls.

Thanks to the wonders of inertial dampeners, Sheppard made the Jumper dance. He could easily envision the screams and cheers of all the people who watched him glide around the city gracefully weaving around the buildings close enough to see their faces. It was a sign of trust that the Colonel sat in the back silently as he watched the nearly suicidal maneuvers. Lorne watched with amusement in the back as Sheppard finished, knowing what was coming next.

As Sheppard re-entered the Jumper Bay and then opened the lower doors to the Gate Room, Lorne moved up to the co-pilot's chair. They sat in silence as he dialed the gate and they slid through with hardly a whisper from the few people watching.

A few seconds later the two took in the view of Proculus when they exited the space gate above the planet. Even after all these years, Sheppard was still in awe of the raw beauty of seeing a planet from above. The greens and blues below shimmered like a gem to him. Knowing this was going to be the last time he ever saw a planet from this angle through a viewscreen, he savored it. Beside him, Lorne said nothing. This was Sheppard's journey. As far as he was concerned, they had all the time in the universe. Instead, he reflected on the first time he'd seen Earth from this angle. Aside from the different shapes of the continents, Proculus seemed very much the same.

Finally Sheppard gave a contented sigh and turned the Jumper nose down toward the planet. "I'm going to miss this, Evan."

"I know," he replied in his quiet voice that said so much more between friends.

The comfortable silence was maintained as Sheppard brought the Jumper down to land gently beside the village. Lorne, only in slightly better shape than his former CO stood first to offer a hand to Sheppard. For once, Sheppard accepted. Once on their feet, they headed toward the back of the Jumper. There, Sheppard opened the rear hatch and took a deep breath of the fresh air. He brought no bag, no supplies, and nothing of his old life. The moment he stepped out of the Jumper, he was no longer General John Sheppard. He would just be John Sheppard, for the first time in almost fifty years. With a smile, he turned to his friend to offer one last handshake. Instead, Lorne stepped back and snapped off a salute. With a warm smile, Sheppard returned the salute.

"Enjoy your retirement, John."

"Take care of my city, Evan."

"Yes, sir," Lorne popped off, one last time, amusement dancing in his blue eyes.

As soon as Sheppard cleared the ramp, Lorne fired up the Jumper and was gone. The former General watched for a moment, but was glad to note no sense of envy or loss. He'd chosen his path. He wasn't sure when he'd chosen, but a part of him felt like he'd always known where it would end once he'd realized he wasn't going to die gloriously in some battle against the Wraith. With a mental snicker at that image of his younger self, he turned his mind back toward his future.

He wasn't even startled when Chaya appeared out of thin air beside him as he walked toward the village. Without a word, she took him by the hand. Suddenly all the aches and pains and protests from his body faded away. He could feel renewed vigor and youth returning to him. Squeezing her hand gently, he gave her a smile.

"Didn't like the older version of me?" he teased, as they stopped to sit on a warm patch of grass beside the river.

"I did, but the pain it causes is you is clear."

"Fair enough. Besides, no one who knows will ever see me again, anyway."

"Yes," she replied, curling up against him as he put an arm around her.

"I've thought it over. I want to ascend," he finally announced.

"No you don't," she replied with a smile, snuggled against his chest. "But I appreciate the offer."

"I've waited decades for this," Sheppard stated, nuzzling her hair, taking in the scent of her. "What makes you think I'm not serious?"

"I can see your memories. You tried, once. Maybe someday, John. For now, let's just be."

"Be what?" he teased, earning a soft chuckle from her.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Sheppard let his past fade away. He was satisfied with what he'd accomplished in his life, but now he had a new life. And thanks to Chaya's surprise gift of renewed youth, they had all the time in the universe to just be. Maybe one day he would ascend to join her on that level of existence. But, for now, this moment could go on forever, along with so many more perfect moments.


End file.
